The Considerably Peculiar Antics of the SlytherHuffleGryffinClaws
by SilverAquaTrident
Summary: What happens when you send four clever, mischievous, ambitious kids to Hogwarts? Dangerous adventures, strange happenings, bad puns, brilliant pranks, awkward moments, risky escapades, corny jokes, suspicious waffles, and just about every kind of mischief that can possibly occur in seven years of school. Look out Hogwarts - the next generation has arrived!
1. Y1:The SlytherHuffleGryffinClaws Begin

The crowd rushes past me, swerving frantically, wheeling owls and suitcases hurriedly throughout Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Chatter fills the air, sounds of goodbyes and farewells and whatnot.

A grin begins to form across my face as I stare up at the gleaming scarlet train before me. This is it. After eleven years of waiting, of having to listen to James and Fred and Molly and all my other cousins chatter about their adventures at school, I'm finally off to Hogwarts!

I take a moment to glance back at my family. Mum smiles encouragingly, tears pooling in her eyes. Dad grins, pride filling his bright green eyes. "Good luck, Albus!" Uncle Ron hoots, embarrassingly loud. "Don't worry, I'll try not to kill you if you don't get into Gryffindor, but no guarantees!"

I let out a sigh, chuckling. Uncle Ron is hilarious, though maybe a little too bent on every single Weasley and Potter getting into Gryffindor. I feel bad for Rose; if she isn't a Gryffindor, it will take at least six months for her hot-headed dad to blow off his steam.

Lifting up my trunk and Ploof, my salt-and-pepper colored rabbit, I take a deep breath as I prepare to step onto the train, relishing the moment. Right now begins a new stage in my life. I'm no longer a scrawny eleven-year-old boy with messy black hair that never seems to flatten out. Today, I'm finally a real wizard!

Not bearing to hesitate any longer, I hoist up my trunk and step onto the train, ready to begin my new life as a strong, smooth, manly man.

And that's when I stumble over the steps and fall flat on my face.

Shrieks of laughter echo through my ears, coming from both the train and the platform. I feel my face flush beet red as I try to pick myself up, my arms and chin throbbing. Even worse is that I had landed with my legs on either side of the arm rail, and there I sit, straddling the rail, suffering from excruciating pain in the place where you do not want excruciating pain to occur. And just when I think it can't get any worse, I feel my trousers rip, probably revealing my underwear to the whole wide world!

"Yeah, Albus!" my cousin Fred hoots from behind me. "You're off to a great start!"

"At this rate, you'll be the most popular boy in your year!" adds James, laughing hysterically behind Fred.

I bite my lip as hard as I can to suppress the tears that threaten to come. I guess that "strong, smooth, manly man" idea isn't exactly working out that well for me so far.

As usual, I plaster a goofy grin onto my face. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I call that move the Nutcracker!"

The crowd bursts out laughing again at my witty and slightly inappropriate remark. That's my strategy for when embarrassing things happen to me. Just grin and laugh along with the crowd, and you'll feel much better. As I lift myself off the railing, I feel my embarrassment fading away, even though my trousers are ripped and pretty much my entire body is throbbing. I haven't even gotten onto the train yet, and I'm already the joke of my year.

To be honest, being the joke of my year doesn't feel all that bad. If you don't let yourself feel bad, you won't feel bad. I've learned that from eleven years of enduring countless embarrassing situations.

Lifting my head up proudly and ignoring the embarrassment lurking deep down inside me, I attempt to climb up the train again, this time successfully. I realize that I've been clutching Ploof so tightly that I've nearly strangled him. "Sorry, Ploo-Ploo," I mutter.

I swear that I see my own rabbit snicker my mortifying situation.

I'm careful to wheel my trunk up against the back of my pants to cover up the wide, gaping hole in them. As I enter, the whole train applauds and laughs, to which I grin and wave.

I've learned another lesson over the years, too: If it seems like people are laughing at you, laugh along with them, and they'll laugh _with_ you instead.

Shouts of "Oh look, it's the Nutcracker!" ring out among the kids, and I have a gut feeling that I will be stuck with that nickname for the rest of my life.

All the compartments are almost full, so I have trouble finding one. There's a compartment containing Lucy, Dominique, Molly, Roxanne, Fred, Lorcan, Lysander, Laurel, and James, but it's stuffed to the brim. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to listen to their taunts. I have a feeling that they will never, ever let me forget this.

After awhile, I finally come across a compartment that contains just one girl, someone who I don't recognize. Being the son of Harry Potter, I already know some of the kids in my year, but I don't think I've ever seen this girl. She has a dark brown ponytail with a bright red streak in it, deep blue eyes, and tan skin; she's actually very pretty, in her own casual, tomboyish way. She lounges on the seat, perusing a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ lazily. I just hope she didn't see what happened to me...

I swing open the compartment door, and she jerks quickly to face me. "Whoa, there!" she yelps, startled. I notice that she has a strong northern American accent. She must be from New York or Boston or something. "You know, there's a brilliant thing that people like to do sometimes, and it's called 'knocking'."

I stand there awkwardly, not really knowing what to say to her snippy remark.

The girl produces a mischievous grin that resembles the Weasleys' permanent smirk so much that it's kind of creeping me out. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come on in, I think there's some room to spare!"

I return her smile, happy that she didn't taunt or snap at me. "Thanks," I reply, placing my trunk under one of the seats. "What's your name?"

"I'm Cat," she says, putting down the book and holding out her hand. "And yours?"

I grasp her hand and shake it. "Albus Potter."

Cat's eyebrows furrow. "Potter…that sounds familiar. See, since I'm not from England, my mom made me read this book about the First and Second Wizarding Wars, and also this copy of _Hogwarts: A History -" _She gestures to the ginormous book in her hand_._ "just so that I know what's going on all the time. And the book talked about this guy named Harry Potter who defeated Voldemort and stuff. Are you related to Harry Potter, by any chance?"

I nod. "Yeah, I'm his son."

Cat nods too, stretching her legs out on her seat. "That's cool. Must be kinda hard, though. Is everyone all obsessed with how you're his son?"

I find it strange that I've just met Cat, and she is exactly right about my general situation in life. When I go out with my family, I just have to pretend that I don't see the stares or hear the whispers. They aren't nearly as common as they were years ago, but I'm sure that I'll be getting a lot of attention at Hogwarts because of my dad.

"Yeah, it is. Sometimes people treat me differently because of it."

Cat smiles at me. "Well, don't worry, I won't treat you any different. I know what it's like."

I raise my eyebrows. "Is one of your parents famous, too?"

Cat nods, averting her eyes for the first time. "Edgar Riddley. President of the US. He's my dad."

It takes all of my willpower not to gape. Somehow, I can't picture that Cat, a girl wearing an old t-shirt and ripped-up jeans, is the daughter of the leader of one of the most powerful political empires in the world. Then again, some people seem surprised that I, the son of the Boy Who Lived, am not a rich snob, even though everyone knows that Harry Potter is as humble as you can get. Really, I don't have the right to judge her.

"Oh, that's - that's cool," I'm careful not to sound too shocked. "Is he a wizard? Or is your mom a wizard?"

"My mom's a witch, and my dad's a Muggle," Cat replies. "My mom is from England, and she went to Hogwarts. Oh, and in case you're wondering, I'm an American exchange student, though that much is probably pretty obvious."

"Yeah, it kind of is, seeing as you have an American accent and your dad is the President," I respond, and we both laugh. "What part of America are you from?"

"Well, we're currently in D.C., but I'm from Mystic, Connecticut," she says. "If you don't know what that is, it's a state in New England that's east of New York, west of Rhode Island, and south of Massachusetts. It's north of Long Island Sound. Oh, and in case you don't know what New England is, it's the northernmost part of America, on the East Coast. It's basically Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, Rhode Island -"

"It's okay, I know what New England and Connecticut are!" I interject, laughing.

Cat blushes. "Oh. Sorry you just had to endure a North American geography lesson."

"Yeah, those two sentences were absolutely unbearable," I laugh. "You just wasted a full ten seconds of my life. Shame on you, Kitty-Cat. Shame on you."

Cat sticks her tongue out at me, punching me lightly on the arm. "Yeah, you could have been doing something more productive, like looking at your right hand."

"What? I don't get it – WA!"

I jerk back as I realize that my right hand is now tinted a very, _very_ noticeable hot pink. There are bright red letters on my palm: "I am a complete, utter, undeniable idiot."

"How did this get here?" I ask, scared out of my mind as Cat begins smirking. "How did you – Oh, I see."

The clues begin to form together. When I shook Cat's hand earlier, she must have somehow snuck some tattoo thing onto it!

Cat holds up a bright pink plastic bag. "Invisible Palm-Stickers, brought to you by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes! They're brilliant! You just stick the invisible adhesive end to your palm, shake someone's hand, and then they're stuck with that mark for eight hours!"

Normally, I'd be kind of annoyed, but that prank was clever. Take it from the guy who grew up getting pummeled by Weasley pranks. Cat starts laughing softly, then I join her laughter, and in a matter of seconds, we're shrieking hysterically at the pure ridiculousness of what just happened. "That was brilliant!" I gasp. "I can already tell you're gonna be trouble!"

Before either of us can say anything else, the compartment door opens, revealing a blonde boy with bright grey eyes and a friendly smile marking his face. However, no matter how hard we try, we can't stop laughing. The boy raises his eyebrows. "Listen, I realize that I'm not the most good-looking guy on the block, but is this really necessary?"

We start laughing even harder. "No, it's not you!" Cat gasps through her laughs. "Look at the guy's hand!"

I hold up my hand for the boy to see, and he chuckles. "So I see you've been caught red-handed?"

"Ha, that was so punny!" I respond, making another horrible pun of my own.

Cat groans. "Oh no, must you throw puns into this?"

"Why so annoyed?" the blonde boy asks. "This is so much pun!"

I start laughing at his second pun. "Well, come into our compartment! Here on the Hogwarts Express, we'll 'train' you to make better puns!"

"Whoa, there, I think you're going down the wrong _track_!" the boy exclaims, and we start laughing again.

"What the heck, you're making me lose my _train_ of thought!" Cat retorts, earning another round of laughter and groans.

"So what's your name, blondie?" Cat asks once we've settled down.

"Scorpius," he says. "Scorpius Malfoy. Nice to meet -"

"Malfoy?!" Cat and I let out at the same time, giving each other a worried glance. Did he just say Scorpius _Malfoy_? As in, the son of Draco Malfoy, my dad's old arch nemesis?

Scorpius sighs. "Here we go again. Listen, I'm not as bad as my dad. Well, hopefully not."

"Oh, I wasn't judging you," I clarify. "I just…uh…"

"It's okay," Scorpius says, plopping down next to Cat. "I'm used to it. So, what's your name?" He looks at Cat.

"I'm Cat," she answers. "American exchange. I think I read about your dad in a book."

Scorpius wrinkles his nose. "Really? Well…how'd you like him?"

"He sucked."

Surprisingly, Scorpius doesn't seem offended. "What was the book?"

"It was Hermione Granger's autobiography."

"Oh, okay," Scorpius says, nodding. "Yeah, my dad and Hermione weren't exactly the best of friends."

Cat purses her lips. "That much I could tell. But whatever. Anyway, nice meeting you, Scorp," She holds out her hand, and Scorpius reaches for it.

"Don't!" I yelp.

Scorpius raises his eyebrows, and I lift up my hand. He nods, chuckling, and withholds his hand from Cat's reach. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

"Dang it," Cat mutters. "Oh well, I still have seven years' worth of pranking opportunities for you guys, so you'd all better watch your backs, especially you, Potter."

"What? Why me?" I protest.

"'Cuz you're so prankable."

"Well, thanks, I'm just feeling the love over here," I mutter sarcastically, smiling.

"Wait…you said his name was…Potter?" Scorpius asks.

I nod. "Yeah. I'm Albus Potter."

Instead of grimacing or widening his eyes, Scorpius smiles. "Well, hi, Albus."

The compartment door opens again, this time revealing a girl with singed auburn hair, a soot-covered face, and a traumatized expression.

"Ugh, Rose, were you playing Exploding Snap with Fred and Lucy again?" I groan.

My disheveled cousin holds up her hands in protest. "Hey, I've been practicing a lot, lately!"

I snicker. "Yeah, and look where that's gotten you."

Rose rolls her eyes. "Shut up, Albania."

"Okay, you really need to find a new nickname for me."

"We also need to find you a new brain, maybe your stupidity would decrease slightly. Oh, wait - I forgot. You're a hopeless case!" Scorpius and Cat laugh. Rose plops down next to me, facing Scorpius and Cat. "Hey, guys. I'm Rose Weasley, and I'm Albania Potty's cousin. He's kind of a nitwit, in case you haven't noticed."

"For the last time, my real name is not 'Albania'!" I snap.

"I love how you get mad at me for calling you 'Albania', and not for calling you a nitwit." She holds up her hand before I can interject. "What are your names?"

"I'm Cat," Cat replies. "Exchange student from America. Nice to meet you!" She holds out her hand.

"NO!" Scorpius and I shout at the top of their lungs.

Rose raises her eyebrows. "Albania, I know you're not fond of manners, but is a handshake really too classy for you?"

"Just don't!" I plead.

"Why?" she demands.

That's when I suddenly realize, _What the heck am I doing_? "Oh, I was…er…kidding."

Rose narrows her eyes, then shrugs. She grabs Cat's outstretched hand and shakes it.

All three of us burst out laughing as Rose, mortified, holds her newly pink hand up to her face. "What the heck is this?" she shrieks.

"Aw, Rose, what did you do to your hand?" Cat asks innocently. "Looks like a terrible _accident_." She puts emphasis on the word 'accident' as we laugh even harder.

After the five seconds it takes for Rose to grasp what just happened, she begins laughing too, and we all just sit there and laugh until a prefect opens the door and tells us to quiet down. Unfortunately, he leaves before Cat can offer him a handshake.

"So," Rose says once we've calmed down. "What's your name?" She gestures at Scorpius.

"Scorpius Malfoy," he replies. "Wait...you're Ron and Hermione's daughter, aren't you?"

"The one and only," Rose analyzes Scorpius, then glances over at me, as if to say, _Is he okay? _I give her a reassuring nod.

"Well, nice to meet you, Scorpius Malfoy. Anyway," Rose continues. "If you had the choice, what houses are you all headed to?"

"I have no clue," Cat says. "And I'm glad I don't know. That way, the Sorting will be more of an adventure. But my mom was a Slytherin when she went to Hogwarts, and she really, really wants me to be a Slytherin, too. Therefore, out of rebellion, I don't want to be in Slytherin."

"Your mom went to Hogwarts?" Scorpius asks.

"Yeah," Cat says. "She's from England."

I notice that she doesn't add that her father is the President, so I decide not to mention it.

"That's cool. I know I'm going to Ravenclaw," Rose says. "There's pretty much no doubt about that. I mean, my hobbies are writing, reading, acting, and music, and I find that Ravenclaws tend to be into music and writing and all that jazz. Plus I'm proud of my insanity, so I think that makes me a Ravenclaw."

"You're proud of your insanity?" I scoff.

Rose shrugs, turning to me. "Yep. Being eccentric is very fun. Being smart is also fun, you should try it sometime."

"Hey!" I protest. "Just because your vocabulary is unreasonably advanced doesn't make me dumb! And nobody says 'eccentric' anymore!"

Rose turns to the other two, ignoring me. "Don't worry, I'm not nearly as mean as I probably sound right now. I'm just mean to him, you know, because he's my cousin, and he's a nitwit."

"Yeah, you strike me as the Ravenclaw type," Scorpius says. "But to be honest, I think you might be more of a Slytherin. Albus, five galleons that she'll end up in Slytherin."

I snort. "You're on. There's no way. To be honest, I'm not sure where I'm headed. Gryffindor, maybe?"

Deep down inside, I have a gut feeling that there is no way I'll ever be a Gryffindor.

"Gryffindors rule!" Scorpius exclaims.

"Are you sure you're related to Draco Malfoy?" Rose questions. "What about you, Scorpius?"

"Anything but Slytherin," he responds proudly.

"What?" I interject. "But…but you're a Malfoy! Hasn't your entire family been in Slytherin?"

"My point exactly," Scorpius affirms. "And I'm sick of it. Father tries to cover it up, but I can tell he really, really wants me to be a Slytherin. Really, I'm surprised he married a Ravenclaw. But I don't want to be your average stuck-up Malfoy. It sounds crazy, but I just want to be something different. You guys know what I mean?"

The three of us nod, though I don't know if I can relate to that or not. I mean, I get what he's saying; the Malfoys haven't exactly earned the World's Favorite Family award. I guess he doesn't want to be the stereotypical Slytherin Malfoy. But I'm in the complete opposite situation; I don't want to be different than the rest of my cousins and aunts and uncles and family. I just want to be a Gryffindor so that I don't disappoint them. Sure, if I don't get Gryffindor my parents would be nice about it, but James and the others would never let me hear the end of it.

"Yeah, I see what you mean," Rose says. "I feel kind of the same way. Almost every Weasley was or is a Gryffindor. Part of me wants to be a Gryffindor to fit in with them, but part of me wants to get into a different house, just to try something new."

Well, I guess that's kind of how I feel. I want to be a Gryffindor like the rest of my family, but at the same time, a small part of me wants to be a little bit...different.

There's a knock on the door, and the lady with the snack cart stands outside our compartment door. We open it for her. "Any snacks from the trolley, loves?"

We pool in a few galleons and purchase some Cauldron Cakes, some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and a few Chocolate Frog cards. For the next fifteen minutes or so, we munch on the snacks and talk some more about our backgrounds.

Cat tells us that being the president's daughter isn't all it's cracked up to be. She's constantly being followed around by security guards whenever she goes out of the house, even to walk her dog. Whenever she wants to practice Quidditch on her _Pantherpaw_ (the newest and fastest Quidditch broom to date), she has to get one of her wizard guards to install 22 Muggle-repelling and disillusionment charms. Cat is constantly being compared to her three older sisters, all of whom excel in everything from school to looks to popularity. They're 'stuck-up idiots' as Cat put it, and her parents obviously favor them over her. When she was asked to be part of BAWEEP (British-American Wizarding Education Exchange Program), she agreed readily. She was bored to death of the White House, of her rigid, uptight parents who don't approve of her "un-ladylike pastimes" (Quidditch)

Rose admits to the others that the only things she's really good at are music, writing, and academics ("and being a prat," I added, to which she slapped me).

We've never really figured out why, but Rose is an actual musical prodigy. She can play the clarinet, saxophone, cello, violin, oboe, piano, bass clarinet, and...there was one other, but I forgot. I think she's starting to fool around with a trumpet. We don't know where her skill came from; the Weasleys aren't really a musical family. Ever since she started learning to play the piano at age three, she's been steadily increasing the amount of instruments she is capable (and very good at) playing. Normally, the Weasleys probably wouldn't be able to afford all those instruments, but Rose pays for them by competing and winning in Muggle talent contests and stuff like that. She also makes quite a lot by standing on street corners and playing her instruments, while people drop money into whatever instrument case she brings along.

I guess I would be kind of jealous of Rose, but her skill in music and academics balances out almost everything else; she's incredibly clumsy, horrible at running, and even worse at Muggle sports. She's not a bad Keeper in Quidditch, though. I hate to admit it, but she's actually pretty impressive. Rose can't play any other position, though, especially Beater. Often she ends up whacking her forehead rather than the Bludger.

I tell them that I'm great at Quidditch, good at math, not great at music, and absolutely hopeless at cooking. I'm the only person I know who can manage to make Jello explode without even trying. I don't really have that much to say about myself; I'm a very open person in general, and I have pretty much nothing to hide.

Scorpius rants about how his parents don't approve of his ambition to be an artist one day. Apparently (although he specifically clarifies that he's not trying to brag) his art skills are highly advanced, and he's always cooped up in his room, painting or sketching or sculpting. He says that his parents have become somewhat nicer, though; they promised themselves that they would make friends with other Wizarding families instead of being rejected among society. And it's working – they have a much better reputation then before, and now Draco Malfoy is a good, changed man. However, he and his wife, Astoria, still don't like the idea of their son being artsy rather than athletic.

Rose stretches her arms and yawns. "Okay, now that we've all shared anecdotes –" I snicker at Rose for her nerdy word choice, to which she rolls her eyes. "What should we do?"

I shrug, feeding a bite of Cauldron Cake to Ploof, who gobbles it up ravenously. That rabbit will eat _anything_. "We could tell corny jokes."

Scorpius grins. "Oh yeah!" We exchange a quick fist bump, causing Rose to groan.

"Ugh, that was so tacky," Rose moans, fake-gagging dramatically.

"Hey, you're the one who always high-fives everyone and still says 'groovy'!" I retort.

"Really?" Scorpius laughs. "Stuck in the Seventies much, Weasley?"

Rose reaches over and flicks his forehead playfully. "Oh, shut up…wait, I need to come up with an annoying nickname for you. How 'bout… Scorp?"

I snicker at her. "Wow, _so_ clever, Rose. That one'll get you into Ravenclaw for sure."

"Hey, Scorpius is a hard name, Albania!" she protests. "Oh well, I'll just go with Scorp. Or maybe The Scorpion."

Suddenly, I realize that Scorpius is leaning on the table, resting one arm on his chin, smiling slightly and gazing longingly at Rose as if he's in some sort of trance.

"Uh, Scorpius? You okay, there?" I wave my hand in front of his eyes, to which he yelps and jerks back as his cheeks flush bright red.

"Oh, yeah. Just…just chillin'." He leans back in an attempt to appear casual.

A grin forms onto my face. "You are horrible liar!"

Scorpius rolls his eyes as his cheeks turn even redder. "Ha, ha, very funny."

Rose raises her eyebrows and purses her lips uncomfortably as I start laughing. "Whatever. So anyway, Cat, what do you think of England so far?"

Scorpius lets out a small sigh of relief that Rose changed the subject.

"I think it's pretty cool," Cat says. "Americans love British accents, but I still can't really tell the difference between a Yorkshire accent and a London accent. I've always wanted to see London, and I think it's awesome."

"Have you met anyone besides us, yet?" Rose asks.

"Hm…" Cat stops and thinks for a moment. "I met a bunch of kids over at Diagon Alley. Melissa Boot, Amanda Finch-Fletchley, and Matthew Wood. They seemed pretty nice, and I grabbed an ice cream with them. Apparently they'll all be in our year."

"Finch-Fletchley!" I blurt out. The other three give me puzzled looks.

A smirk spreads across Scorpius' face. "You're into Amanda Finch-Fletchley?" he says mischievously. "I'd love to hear about this..."

"No!" I retort. "It's just…the name rings a bell…"

Then again, all the last names ring a bell. I know that Boot and Davies went to school with Dad, too. But Dad told me the story about when Justin Finch-Fletchley, a guy in his year, accused him of trying to unleash a snake on him. What if this Amanda girl tries to get revenge on me at school? What if she does something bad to me? What if –

"Whoa, are you okay?" Rose cuts in urgently. "Your face is as pale as a ghost!"

"No," I mutter. "No, I'm fine."

Rose thinks for a moment, and then she snaps her fingers the way she does when she comes up with an idea. "Oh, is this about the whole Finch-Fletchley-Parseltongue incident that your dad told us about?"

I nod nervously, while she rolls her eyes. "Oh, relax, Albus, Finch-Fletchley was a Hufflepuff, and his daughter will probably be, too. Hufflepuffs aren't the vengeful type, so quit stressing over it."

Maybe that should have made me feel better, but I still hang down my head, staring at my feet, mulling over Amanda Finch-Fletchley's possible revenge plot.

Cat sighs, tossing me another Cauldron Cake. "Don't worry about whatever you're worrying about. You've got us, remember?"

I look up at her and smile. "Yeah. Thanks."

I suddenly realize that, for the past two minutes, I've been worrying about something that will not happen. How dumb am I? I do this all the time. I'll take one little thought, and somehow my crazy mind will blow it up into a huge stress-inducing situation, and I'll just over-think it nonstop. Chances are, Amanda Finch-Fletchley doesn't even know about the situation with her dad and my dad over two decades ago. In fact, my dad and Justin are probably friends now.

I turn my frown upside down, and, for the rest of the ride, we discuss school, Houses, professors, and all that jazz (did I really just say that?) At one point, we change into our robes (I had to hold them behind me to cover the gaping hole in my pants). Finally, after another half-hour or so, we arrive at Hogwarts.

I glance out the window as the train screeches to a stop. "Ah, finally!" I exclaim. Stretching out my legs and grunting, I stand up and open the compartment door, dying to get off the train and sprint my way to Hogwarts.

Some people snicker at me when I exit our compartment, courtesy of the whole 'Nutcracker' situation a few hours ago. I ignore them; I'm not going to let them ruin my first day at Hogwarts!

When the four of us finally stumble off the train steps (though I'm a bit more careful; I don't really want to reenact my previous situation), we stop for a moment to take it all in. The colors of dusk paint the sky, vibrant blues and purples and oranges glowing in the light of the setting sun. What adds to the magnificence is the castle looming in the distance, beyond the glistening waters. It's as majestic as I pictured it - even more majestic, actually. I take in deep breaths of the fresh air as kids pile excitedly out of the train, chattering with glee.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" calls a man whose voice I know all too well.

"Hagrid!" I call. I dash up to Uncle Hagrid and give him a big hug, which is soon joined by Rose. Hagrid isn't our uncle, of course, but he's so close with my family that he's like an uncle.

"Hi there, Albus, Rosie!" he grunts good-naturedly, enveloping us in his furry robes, his long silver beard tickling the top of my head. "I'm so glad you've fin'lly made it to Hogwarts!"

"Thanks, Uncle Hagrid," Rose replies, beaming.

Once we've broken away from Hagrid's embrace (and I think I've broken away a rib, too), Hagrid gestures at Cat and Scorpius, who are standing awkwardly nearby. "Who might these be?"

"These are our friends, Scorpius Malfoy and Cat Riddley," I respond brightly.

"Riddley?" Hagrid scratches his head. "Don't think I recognize that name. Did yer parents go to Hogwarts?"

"I'm an American exchange," Cat says. "Nice to meet you!"

"You too, Cat Riddley!" Hagrid says. "Now, Malfoy..._that's_ a name I recognize."

Scorpius grins sheepishly. "Yup. I'm sure it is. Nice meeting you!"

I can tell Hagrid is a little uneasy, but he relaxes with Scorpius' friendly greeting. "You too...Malfoy..." I detect a hint of a grimace on his face. I don't blame him; after all, Scorpius's father did try to get him fired when he was at Hogwarts. "Alright, I've gotta go get all the firs' years into the boats. C'mon!"

We follow Hagrid as he beckons us forward, surrounded by about thirty or forty other kids. Cat waves to the trio whom I'm guessing are Melissa, Amanda, and Matthew, the kids she met at Diagon Alley. He leads us to the docks, where small wooden boats are tethered. The four of us hop into one of the boats.

When Rose steps onto our boat, it lurches slightly, to which Rose squeals, causing us to snort. "What?" she protests. "I just got a bit jumpy!"

"Yes, because it's _so_ terrifying when the boat shifts two centimeters," Scorpius teases while we laugh, plopping down next to Rose. "I just wanted to scream bloody murder!"

Rose raises her eyebrows and smirks. "You know, Malfoy, if you screamed as loud as you could, maybe that would blow up my eardrums so that I wouldn't have to listen to you talk anymore."

Scorpius thinks for a moment, then smiles. "Touche, Weasley."

Our boat begins to move forward - without oars, I might add. We spend the next minute or so oohing and aahing at the magnificent landscape that lies before us. The sun is setting quickly; the sky is beginning to be shrouded in the cloak of night. Golden lights shine through the enormous castle, warm and inviting. It seems like heaven, a home away from home, exactly how I pictured it in all the Hogwarts tales I've heard. I want nothing more than to just burst through the huge double doors and...and...I really don't know. Have a treacle tart, perhaps?

"You excited?" I ask the others.

Rose looks at me skeptically. "No, Albus, nothing about going to the best school in world affects me in the slightest."

"Okay, fine, it was kind of a dumb question."

"Yeah, ya think?" Rose laughs.

"Hey, don't be a...a...um..." it takes a moment for me to think of a good, mean name. "Twit!"

"Shut up, Albus," Scorpius says.

"Hey!" someone calls.

We turn to the source of the noise, and find a group of kids laughing and hooting in our direction.

"Yeah?" Scorpius calls back.

The group starts laughing even harder. "Yeah, you, Ferret Boy Junior!"

Scorpius sighs.. "I _knew_ that would turn up at some point," he moans.

Rose starts to laugh, to which I give her a questioning look.

"'Ferret Boy?'" Cat chuckles. "I don't get it, but okay."

"You mean you haven't heard the story of Draco Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret?" Rose asks, grinning to herself. "Well, I guess that makes sense, I mean, you _are_ an American."

"Thanks," Cat mutters.

I try to recall any memory of Draco the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, but nothing comes to mind. "I don't think I've heard that story, either."

Scorpius sighs. "Fine, I'll tell it.

"When my dad, Draco, was a Fourth Year, that Auror Mad-Eye Moody was the DADA teacher. So my dad and his gang of idiots were teasing some Gryffindors - Rose's and Albus's parents, actually - when Mad-Eye saw them and got mad. He was so mad that he transfigured my dad into a white ferret! So the ferret - I mean, my dad starting bouncing everywhere, and it eventually went into one of his friends' pants, then it came out and bounced around some more until McGonagall finally transfigured him back. It was a legendary moment, and no one has let him forget it since."

By the end of his story, both Scorpius and Cat and Rose are cracking up, and so am I. The image of Draco Malfoy as a bouncing white ferret is just too hilarious.

"I'm sorry!" I gasp through my laughter. "I don't mean to tease you or anything, it's just...ferret...bouncing...heeheeheee!"

We spend a few more minutes laughing over Draco Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, which causes, to our satisfaction, the kids teasing Scorpius to give us confused looks and turn away. It's a good strategy - if someone's laughing at you, just start laughing too, as if it's the most hilarious thing in the world, and your teaser will shut up.

After awhile, we settle down, lounging back in the seats of the boats.

"So, what's up, Ferret Boy Junior?" Rose says smugly to Scorpius next to her.

"Shut it, Queen Weasel," Scorpius snaps, despite the fact that he's grinning.

I straighten myself up, grinning mischievously. "Hey, did you guys know that as part of the same genus, weasels and ferrets are, scientifically speaking, supposed to mate?"

"Shut up, Albus," Scorpius and Rose say in unison. Cat and I start howling with laughter, because I got exactly the reaction I was hoping for: both of their faces are beet red, as red as my right hand, and they're firmly avoiding eye contact with each other.

"Really, Albus?" Scorpius moans. "Did you really have to say that?'

"Admit it, Scorp, it was a good one," Cat says. The two of us exchange a fist-bump.

Rose and Scorpius are still sitting stiffly apart. "Um...let's just...let's just pretend that didn't happen, right?" Rose mumbles.

"That's what people say when describing your existence, Rose," I say. "They go, 'Let's pretend that didn't happen, right?'" Cat starts laughing, and we exchange another fist-bump.

"Wow, very funny, Albus," Scorpius replies, rolling his eyes.

"Will you quit ferreting around?" I retort.

"OH!" Cat shouts, clapping her hands together. "That was good!"

"Okay, fine, that was not a _horrible_ pun," Rose sighs.

"Ha!" I exclaim. "You finally admit that I'm the king of puns!"

"I never said that!" Rose protests. "Besides, it was not very _punny_!"

There's a moment of silence, and then, almost as if on cue, Scorpius, Cat, and I shake our heads.

"Blimey, Rose that was horrible!"

"Awful!"

"That was just sad!"

Rose raises her eyebrows and looks at each of us helplessly. "What - I - was it really that bad?"

"Yes!" the three of us exclaim in unison.

Rose lets out another sigh. "Wow. I'm just feeling all the love in the air."

We talk for about five more minutes until Hagrid calls out from in front of us, "We're gettin' close, firs' years! When we reach the dock, follow me into the castle!"

Finally, the boat drags itself to the dock, and I watch as the torch light flickers on the others' faces while we hop off the boats.

The four of us stand as a group, gazing up at the castle looming above us, lights glowing through the windows invitingly. Scorpius shakes his head, smiling warmly. "Just think of all the trouble us four are going to cause here," he comments fondly, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

"We're going to be those kids who go on all the adventures and find all the secrets of the castle," Rose adds.

"Just like Dad and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione," I whisper with relish, thinking of those grown-ups who've been my role models for my whole life. We're going to be just like them. We'll be the heroes that always save the day. Even though the four of us have just met (with the exception of me and Rose), some bond has been formed between us on the train. I know deep down that we'll be inseparable all throughout our seven years of school.

"Just like them," Rose repeats.

Cat makes a fake gagging noise. "Guys, stop that, you sound like a soap opera!"

We laugh at Cat's great timing, and at how she's exactly right. "Wow, way to ruin the moment, Catnip," Scorpius snorts.

"Really? Catnip? That's the best you can think of?" Cat snickers.

"Would you prefer Kitty-Cat, or Meow Mix, or Litter Box-"

"I'll go with Catnip," Cat says quickly. "I don't think I could live with you calling me 'Meow Mix' for the rest of my life."

"'Meow Mix' it is!" Scorpius proclaims as Cat groans.

I suddenly notice something that I didn't before. "Wait...Cat, wasn't your hair brown before? Now it's more blonde, and it's longer."

Cat fingers a strand of her hair. "Oh, I'm a Metamorphagus. You know, where you can change your appearance whenever you want to? For some reason, I can only change my hair, though. Sometimes I can't control it, and my hair changes and I don't realize it. I usually just keep it brown with a bright red streak, but sometimes I turn it neon turquoise, just to annoy my parents."

"That's so cool!" Rose says. "Yeah, I thought you looked a little different than before. Aren't Metamorphagi pretty rare nowadays?"

"Yeah, they are," Cat replies. "My parents want me to use it to look prettier, but I refuse, just to rebel."

Scorpius's jaw is dropped in awe. "Whoa...so you can look however you want to? That's so awesome! So, you can, like, paint a picture in your own hair at will? Except without paint?"

"Come on, Artsy Boy," Rose says, grabbing his wrist with her bright pink hand and dragging him along as Hagrid leads us to the gates. "Hey, why is everyone staring at us?"

I look around and notice that she's right. A lot of other kids are gazing at us with interest. I lean over to the others. "Think about it. We're Weasley, Potter, Malfoy, and an American exchange. How do people not stare at us?"

"Ugh, I don't want to be a celebrity," Cat moans.

"Why not?" Scorpius asks. "Actually, I'd love to be a celebrity. That way all the ladies could admire my dashing looks!" He jokingly portrays a hilariously provocative pose, to which we burst out laughing, earning more stares.

"Scorpius!" Rose scolds with mock-sternness. "You should know that the ladies can't admire what you don't have!"

"OHHHH!" All four of us yell.

"OHHHH!" I hear someone else holler. I turn to see a rowdy group of guys applauding Rose's rather average comeback. "That girl has game!"

"Shut up!" Rose hollers back.

"OHHHH!" the guys call again, laughing. "Good one!"

I grin at Rose, nudging her side with my elbow. "Looks like you've got yourself a couple of admirers, Rosie!" I turn to Scorpius to see his reaction, and sure enough, he's glaring at the pack of guys as if they just threw out all his paintbrushes. I'm about to tease him when suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Hey, guys!" Dominique Weasley greets cheerfully, strawberry blonde hair glistening in the moonlight. Being one-eighth Veela, she's very, very pretty. Dominique is quite stylish, and she wants to move to Paris and become a fashion designer when she grows up. Honestly, I think that's where she'll end up one day; she's known for her flashy clothes and jewelry. You'd think she'd be kind of stuck-up, seeing as she's part-veela and obsessed with fashion, but actually Dominique is generally nice. Well, she's not afraid to say what she thinks of you, but she's an upstanding, respectable person.

"You all excited?" Lucy Weasley asks, grinning. Lucy is Uncle Percy's second-oldest daughter. Unlike Dominique, Lucy is a full-out tomboy; she never wears jewelry, doesn't care about fashion, and would rather spend her time devising one of her clever schemes. They say that she's a carbon copy of Uncle George and Uncle Fred when he was alive. No wonder; if you need to prank someone, Lucy is the person you go to. "Me, I can't wait for the Sorting. Gryffindor, here I come!"

I introduce Cat and Scorpius to them, and they make friends with each other pretty quickly. Within a few minutes, they're talking and laughing like old friends.

Hagrid leads us through the gates of Hogwarts as we stare up at the looming castle. My heart is beating so fast that I'm kind of nervous that other people might be able to hear it pounding. Not only am I dying to enter Hogwarts, but I'm also starving, even though I ate a lot on the train.

Yet at the same time, I'm shaking hard out of pure nervousness. For the whole train ride, I've tried not to think about my worst fear - becoming a Slytherin. If I'm sorted into Slytherin, what will my family say? From the stories I've heard from various family members, Slytherins are generally arrogant, cowardly, stuck-up prats. Then again, that might not be fair to say about all Slytherins, but it's possible. If I get into Slytherin, will I become a prat?

"Hey, Albus, which House are you headed to, if you've got the choice?" Dominique asks, almost as if she just read my thoughts. "Wouldn't want to end up in Slytherin, eh?"

"Um...I don't know," I answer quietly. I still haven't decided. I should want to be a Gryffindor; I mean, I'm a Weasley-Potter - that's two die-hard Gryffindor families! But it would be nice to be different from the rest of them, just to be unique. To be honest, being in Gryffindor wouldn't be too thrilling, just because my whole family is made of Gryffindors. "Anything but Slytherin, I guess. Maybe...Ravenclaw?"

"BAHAHA!" the two of them burst out laughing. "Albus Potter, if you're Ravenclaw material, then I'm the queen of Bulgaria!" Lucy snorts.

"Gee, thanks," I mutter. Really, just because I'm not as bright as Rose doesn't mean I'm _that_ dumb! Well...actually, I think they're probably right. "Okay, fine, maybe not Ravenclaw. How about Hufflepuff?"

"Are you feeling okay, Al?" Dominique asks, feeling my forehead. "Since when do you not want to be in Gryffindor?"

"No!" I protest. "I mean...well, like...um..."

Lucy grins, shaking her head. "You are the worst liar I have ever known! So you really want to be a Hufflepuff?"

I nod sheepishly. "Actually, I think it'd be pretty cool."

The two girls look at me like I've just grown five extra ears. "Wait, so you think that kindness, loyalty, honesty, and fair play are actually more important than being brave?" Lucy scoffs, wrinkling her nose.

"Of course!" I say immediately.

Lucy and Dominique exchange a worried glance. "Let's get him to Madam Pomfrey as soon as we can," Dominique says as Hagrid leads us through the doors.

I find myself in a small, dimly lit room, surrounded by the rest of the kids in my year. I can hear the low rumble of a crowd right outside the open door ahead of me. A tiny Professor Flitwick stands upon a large stack of books, quieting everyone down.

"Alright, alright," he says merrily. "First years, welcome to Hogwarts School! My name is Professor Filius Flitwick, Deputy Headmaster, Head of Ravenclaw House, Choir Director, and Charms professor. As most of you bright folk know, with the exception of our Slyther - ahem, duller students -"

Snickers float through the crowd. "That's you, Albus," Scorpius whispers. I punch him on the arm.

Flitwick clears his throat. "Thank you. As most of you folks of _varying intelligence_ know, the Sorting Ceremony is about to occur. When your name is called, you must enter the Great Hall through this door, and you will sit on the stool in the middle of the platform. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will..."

Flitwick goes on to explain the Sorting, even though everyone already knows what it is.

We've had Flitwick over for dinner before, since he taught both Mom and Dad. He seemed nice enough, with a dry, witty sense of humor. I'll have to see what he's like as a Charms professor...

"Alright, does everyone understand?" he asks, concluding his speech, to which we murmur in assent. "Very good. Just stay calm and relax. The Sorting Hat doesn't kill anyone. Well, at least not usually. We've had some strange reactions in the past...anyway, good luck to you all!"

He exits the room, and I can hear the Sorting Hat singing its song gleefully outside the door.

"Strange reactions?" I murmur. "That sure put the butterflies in my stomach to rest."

"Hello, everyone!" a girl says, interrupting the silence. "I'm Aella, and I'm new to this wizard thing, you know, because I'm Muggle-born. Tell me, does the Sorting Hat have a name?"

Some murmurs float through the crowd, until finally someone replies, "I don't think so."

"That's peculiar," Aella comments. "Maybe we should give it a name! It must be awful not to have a name, you know. Any suggestions?"

"How about Freddy?"

"Edwardo?"

"Primrose Everdeen?"

"Rocky?"

"Bob Marley?"

"Buddy?"

"That's it!" Aella states. "The Sorting Hat's new name is Buddy. When we get sorted, we should call him Buddy, okay?"

Some people give her confused looks, while some people respond enthusiastically, including Rose. "Okay!" she responds. "That's a good idea. You're right, not having a name probably sucks. I mean, a name sort of defines who you are."

"Perhaps it does," Aella muses. "Or maybe it doesn't..."

"That's true," Rose says, her voice taking on sort of a thoughtful tone. "What if a name just defines who other people say you are, not who you really are?"

"That could be!" Aella jumps in. "What if we all have real names, not just the names our parents gave us?"

"Honey, what on earth have you been drinking?" a guy says in a very sassy New York accent, earning a few laughs.

"I agree with her!" Rose asserts. "Think about it. What's in a name? What if we have real names that describe our true mortal essence?"

"Maybe I'll understand your idea when you translate that to English," Sassy-Guy says, earning some laughs and a pat on the back from the guy next to him.

"Yeah, and maybe I'll understand _you_ when you stop talking in that obviously fake, pathetically executed New York accent," Rose responds, earning some more "Oooh!"s.

"Guys, shut up, the Sorting is gonna start any second!" another girl hisses, causing all of us to quiet down.

"Andrews, Natalie!" the squeaky voice of Flitwick rings out through the Great Hall.

A very small girl with dark hair and tan skin exits the room and strolls confidently onto the stage. We all gather around the door, craning our necks to watch as the hat - I mean, Buddy the Sorting Hat is placed on the girl, covering her eyes.

"_Mm...yes, very interesting..._" Buddy the Sorting Hat murmurs. "_Yes, I know just the right place for you..._"

"Wait for it..." Scorpius whispers loudly. "And..."

"_GRYFFINDOR!_"

Applause erupts from the tables, especially the Gryffindor table, where a grinning Natalie Andrews jogs and plops down next to a prefect.

"Banks, Marigold!"

A taller girl with light brown hair and freckles walks nervously toward the door. Two other kids who look very similar to her pat her on the back as she exits. "The Banks are triplets," Rose says to me. "I wonder if they'll end up in the same house..."

Buddy the Sorting Hat is placed on Marigold's head.

"Hi, Buddy," Marigold says, giggling.

"_Buddy? Mmm, okay._ _Well,_ _hi there, Marigold. Anyway, I see that you're quite a bright young lady. Witty...wise...studious...Well, I don't think I'm going to have much trouble with this decision._

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

Marigold grins triumphantly, and her siblings cheer as she heads toward the Ravenclaw table. We watch as her sister Olivia Banks is sorted into Hufflepuff, and Peter Banks a Ravenclaw. Izzy Blackwater also becomes a Ravenclaw, along with Melissa Boot and Chris Corner.

"I think Hogwarts is having a nerd overload," Sassy Guy mutters, earning more laughs.

Amanda Finch-Fletchley is a Hufflepuff, Jeff and Michael Finnigan are Gryffindors, Selena Flint is a Slytherin, Mark Goldstein a Ravenclaw, Brandon Hare a Ravenclaw, Jackie Hassleberg a Hufflepuff, Jason Jordan a Gryffindor, Penelope Kaligaris a Slytherin, Hermes Kaligaris a Slytherin...

"I think we're gonna be waiting for quite awhile," I whisper. "None of us four will be sorted until we get to the M's..."

"You guys are lucky," Rose mumbles. "I have to wait till the W's. Am I the last one?"

"No, I am," a girl whispers haughtily with a toss of her hair. "Zabini."

"Ah," I say, nodding. Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the guys tossing his hair prissily to imitate her, and I snort.

"Hey, about three-quarters of the kids so far have called the Sorting Hat by his new name!" Aella whispers excitedly. "I'm so proud of them! Keep up the good work, guys!"

I watch Professor Longbottom's daughter, Alice, become a Hufflepuff, and Bobby Macmillan also becomes a Hufflepuff.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

Scorpius stands still for a moment, and then a confident grin spreads onto his face. "Good luck, Scorp," We pat him on the back, and Cat high-fives him.

"Thanks," he replies, smiling even more. He marches onto the stage, and whispers erupt throughout the Great Hall. After all, he is a Malfoy, the son of a former Death Eater. Scorpius ignores the reaction and sits happily on the stool as the Buddy the Sorting Hat is placed on his head.

"Hi there, Buddy!" Scorpius says warmly.

"_Okay, what's with the whole 'Buddy' thing? Is this some sort of new hipster trend that I don't know about?_"

"A girl named Aella said that you should have a name," Scorpius responds. "You'll sort her in a few minutes."

"_Hmph_," Buddy grunts. "_I'm going to have a little talk with her about that during her Sorting. Then again, I actually like my new name. It suits me. It kind of has a nice, friendly groove to it, you know?"_

"Um, okay," Scorpius raises his eyebrows.

"Anyway,_ enough about me, let's discuss you, Mr. Malfoy. I sense something different in you...yes, something that I haven't seen in a Malfoy in hundreds of years_..."

"Is it good looks?" Scorpius jokes. The kids at the tables erupt in laughter.

"_No, I've seen my fair share of those_," Buddy clarifies. "_Especially with your father. He was pretty cute, I'd have to say_,"

"Uh...what?" Scorpius shifts uncomfortably.

"_Oh, sorry. You know that I have the intelligence of all four founders within me, including that of Miss Rowena Ravenclaw. She had quite a thing for Malfoys; did you know that she married one, eventually? And no, Mr. Malfoy, I am not gay, I'm neither male nor female! Oh, I'm sorry, there I go again, getting off topic. Okay, back to you. I see a rebellious streak in you, a desire to be unique, and courage - oh, quite a lot of it! And - I take it that...you don't want to be in Slytherin_?"

"Never," Scorpius says proudly, causing gasps to resound through the hall. "Anything but Slytherin."

"_Alright then, Harry Potter - er, Scorpius Malfoy. There is goodness in your heart, and but I can't see you as a Hufflepuff. No, Helga Hufflepuff would not approve of your deepest flaws._"

"Gee, thanks," Scorpius mutters.

_"My pleasure. You don't have to worry about being a Slytherin, by the way. You're cunning and very ambitious, yes, but...there's something about you that Salazar Slytherin wouldn't like..._"

"Wow, I guess the founders really have a thing for me," Scorpius says, gaining even more laughs.

"_Whoa, you need to calm down and...er...'go with the groove'. That's what the kids say these days, right?_"

Scorpius shrugs. "Mm...sure."

"_Good, I'm glad I'm 'in the lingo', as the kids say. Hm...hm, yes...oh yes, I see...mmhmm...yes, yes...oh yes, for sure. Scorpius Malfoy, if you follow your dreams, I know you'll go far in..._

"_RAVENCLAW!_"

Scorpius jumps up and pumps his fist in the air. "Yes!" he shouts as the Ravenclaw table cheers. He removes the hat and literally sprints to his table.

I turn to the others, of which there are only about fifteen left. "Well, he seems satisfied."

"Apparently so," Rose says. "Out of us three, looks like you'll be going next."

My stomach does a quick flip-flop. I'm not the kind of person who can just march out in front of an audience confidently like Scorpius just did. But still, I can't wait for my name to be called. A strange mixture of nervousness and excitement is shooting up my spine.

"Marshall, Aella!"

"Yeah, Aella!" I high-five her as she walks toward the door. "You got this!"

"Thanks!" she replies, exiting onto the stage.

Buddy the Sorting Hat barely touches her head before calling out, "RAVENCLAW!"

The rest of us exchange glances. "I guess that one was pretty predictable," Rose says.

Brenda McAffrey becomes a Hufflepuff, Meredith Murphy becomes a Slytherin, and so does Phil Peach, and suddenly, before I know it...

"Potter, Albus!"

My body freezes up, paralyzed and unable to move. I feel everyone's gaze burning into me. "Go on, Al," Cat says, giving me a little push. "You've got this!"

"N-No I don't!" I moan.

Cat puts one of her hands on each of my shoulders, looking me right in the eye, penetrating me with her gaze. "Albus Potter. You are brilliant, and no matter what house you are sorted into, you are still brilliant. Understand?"

I feel a sense of warmth spread through me. Coming from anyone else, that wouldn't make much of a difference, but something about her firm tone and that determined look in her eyes...

"Now go out there and say hey to Buddy for me!"

Cat literally shoves me onto the stage, and I stumble toward the stool, staring out at the audience. I press my right hand to my side, careful to hide the letters that were imprinted onto it, courtesy of Cat._ Calm down, Albus. Don't freak out. It's just a crowd...that's staring at you...and whispering...and pointing..._

I remember Cat's words and push myself onto the stool, letting tiny old Flitwick place the hat onto me.

I take a deep breath, ready to hear Buddy the Sorting Hat's legendary words of wisdom that will reveal the very depths of my soul...

_"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHH!"_

Buddy lets out a deafening scream right into my ear. I scream just as loud and tumble off the stool, and guess how I fall? Flat on my face. Again.

Everyone in the Great Hall roars with laughter, even the teachers' table! I notice James and Fred literally rolling on the ground from laughing so hard. I feel my cheeks flush the color of the Gryffindor banner to my right. _Remember your philosophy, Albus. Turn your embarrassing moment into a comedy act, and it'll all be better!_

Instead of looking like a deer in headlights, I plaster on a grin and wave to the crowd as if they're applauding me for a Grammy award. "Thank you, thank you!" I call out over the din, bowing with a flourish, making them laugh even harder. It takes them quite a while to settle down, but they finally collect themselves when I sit back down on the stool. "Okay, Take Two," I tell Flitwick, who chuckles while dropping Buddy onto my head a second time.

"Listen," I tell Buddy. "I know I'm not the best-looking guy on the block, but am I really so hideous that you have to scream about it?"

Loud, hysterical laughter and clapping echoes through the Great Hall again. Okay, fine, I stole what Scorpius said when he walked into our compartment, but I'm sure he won't mind. I feel my embarrassment whip away. I'm not a laughingstock; I'm a comedian!

"_Well, Mr. Potter, did you know that you are one-sixteenth Troll_?"

"WHAT?!"

"_Naw, I'm just kidding you! Anyway, would you, by any chance, like to know why I screamed when I was placed on your head_?"

"Hm, yeah, that would be kind of nice.

A few awkward seconds pass.

"Hello?"

"_Oh! Right, okay. I screamed because I've had so many Hatstalls today that I'm getting very fed up, and I can tell that you are probably going to be the longest Hatstall I've had in at least one hundred years_!"

"Oh, great...wait, was that really the reason why you screamed?"

"_Well...mostly...it was sort of an experiment, really. As soon as I touched your head, I realized that you would be a Hatstall. So, I screamed in your ear to see how you would react - whether you would burst into tears, storm off, say something witty - and now I have my data."_

"So you've killed my dignity and made me suffer public humiliation just so you could perform a small experiment?"

"_Yep._"

I shrug. "Okay."

"_Actually, the experiment has helped quite a bit, you see. Your Sorting time has decreased significantly. So, let's begin the hard task. See, the reason why this is going to be so hard is that you're witty, ambitious, kind, and, though it might not show to the naked eye, you have courage deep down inside, and you have lots of it. Now, let's start with process of elimination. You're ambitious, but definitely not a Slytherin. Oh, no, definitely not, you're not very cunning at all!"_

"Yes!" I blurt out. There's a few more moments of silence.

"_May I continue?_"

"Yes, sir."

"_Thank you. You're smart, and definitely witty - oh my, very witty. But you don't enjoy pondering and analyzing as Ravenclaws tend to do, and you're not very 'book-smart', as they say, so we should probably rule that out. So it's down to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. I'm going to give you a few trick questions, alright?"_

"Um...okay..." I notice the Weasley cousins and my brother in one big pack, waving their arms and mouthing "Choose Gryffindor!"

"_A malevolent troll approaches you and your friend in a remote area, and it is about to attack. You only have your wand, and your friend doesn't have his wand. What do you do_?"

"First, you'll have to tell me what 'malevolent' means."

"_Yeah, you'd never make it in Ravenclaw. Malevolent is an adjective that is defined as having, showing, or arising from intense and often vicious ill will, spite, or hatred ._"

"I still don't get it..."

"_IT MEANS BAD!"_

"Okay, okay! Hm...I'd make sure my friend is out of danger first, and then I'd fight the troll myself."

"_Interesting...very interesting...one of your relatives and twenty strangers are trapped. You can either rescue the relative and not the strangers or the twenty strangers and not the relative. Who do you rescue?"_

"The relative, of course," I answer immediately. Honestly, I'm dying to know what Buddy is thinking.

"_So, honestly, you're dying to know what I'm thinking? Yes, I am a Legilimens, you know. Well, if you must know, here's what I'm thinking: what do you think is more important: being brave in the face of danger or helping others?"_

"What kind of question is that? Helping others!"

_"Alright, then. I think you're one of the first Potters to whom I've ever said this, but..._

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

As the Hufflepuff table cheers as loud as they can, part of me wants to curl up in a corner and die, but part of me wants to celebrate and rejoice. I feel like I've failed my family, but one thing's important: I'm still unique. I'm different from the rest of them, by representing a different house. Really, I think I've wanted to be a Hufflepuff all along. I've always looked up to Hufflepuffs and their fairness and kindness. Those traits are the most important traits of all. And now I get to represent them!

"_Thank you for not calling me 'Buddy'_."

"Sorry, what was that, Buddy?"

"_Oh, shut up and go to your table!_"

Flitwick removes Buddy from my head, and I proudly make my way to the table second from the right. The kids there look happy, warm, inviting, like one big family. As soon as I approach them, they scoot over to make room for me and pat the empty spot for me to sit. "Welcome to Hufflepuff, Albus!" a Prefect says. "We're so glad to have you here!"

I beam at the Prefect. "Thanks! I'm so happy to be a Hufflepuff!"

I chat with the other Hufflepuffs, and within a few minutes, I've gotten to know Amanda Finch-Fletchley, Bobby Macmillan, Alice Longbottom, Olivia Banks, Brenda McAfree, and Jackie Hassleberg, all First-Year Hufflepuffs. They seem very nice, but not the sugarcoated kind of nice - I'm talking about the real, down-to-earth kind of nice, the niceness that makes you feel all warm inside. I ignore the glares coming from the Gryffindor table. Hufflepuff is my family now, and I'm proud of it!

While talking to the Hufflepuffs, I watch Noah Pucey become a Slytherin, and then -

"Riddley, Catherine!"

"That's my friend," I tell Amanda and Bobby next to me as a beaming Cat walks onto the stage. "She's the American exchange student."

"Oh, yeah, I heard there's an exchange student this year," Brenda says.

I give Cat a thumbs-up, to which she grins while Flitwick places Buddy on her head.

This is literally Cat's entire Sorting:

"Hi, Buddy!"

"_GRYFFINDOR_!"

"Bye, Buddy!"

I cheer loudly for her as she walks off the stage. I'm a little disappointed that we aren't in the same house (and neither is Scorpius), but I know she'll be happy in Gryffindor, and that's what counts. One thing's for sure: Cat is the ultimate epitome of a Gryffindor. When she reaches her table, I wave to her, and she waves back at me before greeting her fellow Gryffs.

"She seems nice," Alice comments, watching her. "Is she?"

"Yeah, very nice," I say. "I'll introduce you to her sometime."

I almost say that she's the President's daughter, but I stop myself. Cat probably doesn't want everyone to know; after all, she did say that she doesn't want to be a celebrity.

I watch Laurel become a Ravenclaw. Laurel's awesome; since my parents are friends with her mom, Luna, and her dad, Rolf Scamander, she and her brothers have been to my house a lot. She high-fives Lorcan and Lysander as she plops down at her table and waves to me.

The sassy New York accent guy turns out to be Jessie Snowyowl, who is sorted into Slytherin right when Buddy's brim touches the top of his head. Jessie is a...well...big guy, with curly black hair and tan skin. He turns out to be quite the joker, as he does a funny little dance and tells a joke after getting sorted. Jessie's accent is what really makes the joke funny, though. Something about the way he delivers his comedy is downright hilarious.

A girl named Christina Sprout - the retired Professor Sprout's granddaughter - joins us at the Hufflepuff table. Just like the rest of them, she's warm and cheery, and fits right in.

As expected, both Lucy and Dominique become Gryffindors within seconds. "Those are my cousins, and so is the next one," I explain.

"Weasley, Rose!"

I give Rose a little wave as she walks onto the stage, amazingly calm and at ease. She performs in public so much with her acting and music that for her, there's no such thing as stage fright.

"Hey! Scorpius!" I turn around and hiss.

Scorpius looks up from conversing with other Ravenclaws. "Yeah?"

"Remember our bet? If she makes it into Ravenclaw, you owe me five galleons!"

Scorpius smirks. "Just you wait. Within five minutes, I'm going to be five galleons richer."

"Hello, Buddy!" Rose says when the hat is placed on her head.

"_Ah, a Granger-Weasley! Yes, I see quite a bit of your parents in you!"_

"Awesome..." she says uncertainly.

"_Mm, you don't like that very much, do you? It's strange - just like Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Potter, and Catherine Riddley, you have a desire to be unique, set apart from the others. Therefore, you don't want to be sorted into Gryffindor. Am I right?"_

_"_Yep. You've summed it up exactly," Rose replies. Gasps echo through the hall. Sure, a non-Gryffindor Potter is weird, a non-Slytherin Malfoy is weirder, but a non-Gryffindor Weasley is practically unheard of.

"_Well, good. Because Gryffindor is not for you. You're courageous, yes, but you won't take risks when you don't have to, and Gryffindor won't get you anywhere. And you know what's fair, and you have great judgement, but you most certainly are not a Hufflepuff, either. You just aren't the type. Now...hm, I see you're a prodigy, eh? Eight instruments, great voice, talented actress, perfect pitch...quite impressive. Anyway, it's down to Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Do you have a preference?_"

Scorpius and I exchange a glance. This is where the fate of our bet will be decided...

"No, not really..." Rose murmurs. "Which one will get me farther?"

"_That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out! Goodness, you're impatient! So...you're witty, intelligent, clever, analytical, open-minded, but also cunning, ambitious, determined, logical, and you have wonderful, wonderful leadership capabilities. Yet with all those great characteristics, I see one gaping flaw..."_

"...And? What is it?"

_"It will benefit you more to figure that out for yourself. But...hm...you might come across as a Ravenclaw, but I think that you...wait...oh! Miss Weasley, would you like to be in Slytherin house? You'd do well in Ravenclaw, but if you choose to be a Slytherin, you are destined for brilliance and greatness. Your leadership can affect Slytherin wonderfully; in fact, you're exactly what Slytherin needs. But it's your choice."_

"You...you're letting me choose?"

"_Of course! Haven't you heard the story of the almost-Slytherin Harry Potter? So, your choice is...?_"

Rose gazes at the floor, and then, for a split second, at Scorpius.

"_Being a Legilimens, I know what your choice is, anyway. You've chosen very wisely, Miss Weasley._

"_SLYTHERIN!_"

Rose lights up as the Slytherin table cheers and the rest of the Great Hall gapes at her. If I'm not wrong, I think Rose is the first Weasley Slytherin.

_"You have great qualities to bring to Slytherin house, Rose Weasley. Use them well._"

As Flitwick removes Buddy from her head, I give her a double thumbs-up.

"Wow, a Slytherin Weasley? That's different," Jackie comments. "Not that it's bad, of course. From what the Sorting Hat - er, Buddy described, she seems great!"

"She's great at pranking, I'll tell you that," I reply. "I'll tell you about what she's done to me when dinner starts."

Rose...a Slytherin? Well, I did not see that one coming. I hadn't even considered her to be anything else except a Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. But now that I think about it, Rose possesses all the qualities of a Slytherin. Cunning, ambitious, determined...kind of bossy..._very_ bossy...and I think she'll really be able to make an impact on Slytherin House. Their reputation isn't at its greatest right now, and with that much leadership and charisma, she can definitely change that for the better.

"Oi! Albus!" I turn around to face the Ravenclaw table, where Scorpius is grinning with satisfaction. He holds out his hand.

"That'll be five galleons, please."

I roll my eyes, reaching into my now yellow-lined cloak (apparently they shift into House colours as soon as the owner is Sorted) and grabbing five coins, begrudgingly handing them to the smirking Ravenclaw.

"Thanks!" he says cheerily.

Adam Winston joins the Hufflepuff table. He's very nice, and also funny and outgoing. Allison West and Matthew Wood become Gryffindors, and, finally, Melinda Zabini becomes a Slytherin.

"Students!" a voice booms after the final round of clapping. We turn to face Headmistress McGonagall. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, and First Years, it is an honor to have you here! I have a few words to say before the feast begins. As always, the Forbidden Forest is off limits for everyone. Mister Filch has requested that all Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products be banned from use and possession." She shoots pointed glances at the Weasleys in the room. They all grin and wag their fingers innocently. "That will be all. Enjoy the feast!"

The chatter resumes throughout the hall, and our plates fill up with roast beef, potatoes, Cauldron Cakes - appetizing food of all sorts. During dinner, I tell my new friends about all the pranks Rose and I play on each other, and then I tell them about the pink hand incident. They laugh constantly at my jokes, especially when I show them my pink hand.

At one point, a paper airplane lands in my glass. I lift out the dripping piece of paper and unfold it, reading it silently:

_To Malfoy, Cat, and Albus:_

_So it sucks that we all got Sorted into four different houses, but that means that we have more ways to cause trouble, because we have access to all the common rooms. Maybe we should call the four of us the SlytherHuffleGryffinClaws!_

_- the one and only SlytherWeasley_

_P.S. But not in public, because it's kind of tacky. Enjoy the feast!_

I grin is I dry off the paper and slip it into my pocket. Rose is absolutely right. The four of us will cause trouble, pull pranks, do all the fun things our parents did when they were in school and even more. I don't know what's ahead of us, but no matter what, we'll stick together, no matter how tacky that sounds. Other than that, there's only one thing I know for sure:

Hogwarts had better be warned - the SlytherHuffleGryffinClaws have arrived.

**Do you want to discover the mischief Albus, Rose, Cat, and Scorpius will cause this year? If you like this story so far, go ahead and subscribe, and perhaps drop a review or favorite if you want to? Thanks!**

**Sincerely,**

**Pseudonymous Marina**

**List of First Years:**

**Gryffindors**

**Cat Riddley**  
**Matthew Wood**  
**Jason Jordan**  
**Allie West**  
**Jeff Finnigan**  
**Michael Finnigan**  
**Lucy Weasley**  
**Dominique Weasley **  
**Natalie Andrews**

**Hufflepuffs**

**Albus Potter**  
**Amanda Finch-Fletchley**  
**Bobby Macmillan **  
**Adam Woodward **  
**Alice Longbottom**  
**Olivia Banks**  
**Brenda McAfree**  
**Christina Sprout **  
**Jackie Hassleberg**

**Ravenclaws**

**Scorpius Malfoy**  
**Marigold Banks**  
**Peter Banks**  
**Melissa Boot**  
**Chris Corner**  
**Mark Goldstein**  
**Brandon "Bunny" Hare**  
**Laurel Scamander**  
**Izzy Blackwater**  
**Aella Marshall**

**Slytherins**

**Rose Weasley**  
**Selena Flint**  
**Melinda Zabini**  
**Meredith Murphy**  
**Penelope Kaligaris**  
**Phil Peach**  
**Jessie Snowyowl**  
**Noah Pucey**  
**Hermes Kaligaris**


	2. Y1:School Gets a Little Interesting

**A/N: Welcome back to _The Considerably Peculiar Antics of the SlytherHuffleGryffinClaws_! I appreciate all the positive feedback the first chapter has received. In case you might be wondering, this story will include all seven years of Hogwarts. Each year will probably be about...hm, maybe 50,000 words or so? Either way, chances are this story will exceed 100,000 words. **

**Enjoy this next chapter, from the POV of Miss Rose Weasley! The feast in the Great Hall is still going on during the beginning of this chapter. **

**Warning: The plot is about to get complex. Let's just say that this story is not for the simpleminded...mwahaha...':)**

**Now on that optimistic note, enjoy the chapter!**

**- Marina**

* * *

"Who's excited for Quidditch season?" asks Selena Flint for about the fiftieth time. Throughout the feast, I've noticed that Selena is probably the biggest Quidditch fanatic in the world. That figures; her dad played for the Slytherin Quidditch team during his school days, and he now plays for the Tutshill Tornadoes.

I've only been sitting at the Slytherin table for fifteen minutes, and I've already discovered that the crowd here is very...well, interesting. First, there's Selena, who, like I mentioned, is not only a Quidditch fanatic, but also a Quidditch prodigy. Everyone knows that when she gets older, she'll end up as captain of the Slytherin team. Pretty much all she talks about is Quidditch. Don't get me wrong, I love Quidditch, but I don't love hearing about it every five seconds. Seriously, I don't think that girl can form three sentences without using the word 'Quidditch'.

Then there's Melinda Zabini across from me, who is probably the biggest prat I've ever met. She's obsessed with the fact that she's part-Veela, and it seems like her hands are glued to her hair, that's how much she plays with it. I'm also pretty sure that she's Narcissistic; all she seems to care about is herself. Throughout dinner, she's made a few snide comments about my frizzy hair and freckles. It would be a little easier to make a comeback about her looks if she weren't drop-dead gorgeous. Melinda has long, perfectly curled black hair, flawless pale Asian skin, glittering amber eyes, and very, very long eyelashes. She has a haughty air to her; it's obvious that she's been well-cared for, envied, adored even. Some guys are gazing at her dreamily, while others roll their eyes at her. Even though she's pretty, she's so superficial that it kind of overrides the prettiness.

Penelope Kaligaris, the daughter of a Greek wizard and an Italian witch, sits to Melinda's left. I like her slightly better than Selena, and far more than Melinda. She's cordial and polite, though her constant smirk and smooth tone of voice implies that she's sort of suspicious in a way, cunning and devious, though maybe I'm just being quick to judge. Penelope comes across as the type who can manipulate and persuade something out of anyone, a very Slytherin trait. Melinda has made a few nasty remarks about how Penelope looks, too, though it doesn't have much of an effect. Penelope isn't a Veela, but she's very pretty, with thick, straight dark hair, olive skin, bright hazel eyes, and a dramatic Italian accent. She has sort of a dangerous aura, dark and sinister.

I like Meredith Murphy, the girl to my right, the most out of all the Slytherin girls in my year. Meredith is from the nearby coast of Ireland, and she has quite a strong accent. Of course, Melinda made fun of it, but we all kind of ignored her. She's an extremely talented dancer and singer, though she's very humble about it. I can already tell that we'll be friends.

Really, it's amazing how much you can find out about people just by sitting with them for fifteen minutes.

"Yeah, I'm considerably excited," I reply, answering Selena's question.

Melinda snickers, a sneer curling onto her lip. "'Considerably'? Where are you from, the 1800s?"

"Where are you from, a junkyard?" I retort.

Satisfaction wells up inside of me as the other girls start laughing at my comeback. Over the years, I've gotten pretty good at comebacks, in my opinion. In general, I never insult people unless they've just insulted me (with the exception of Albus). That way, I don't get in trouble for being rude. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, you know?

Melinda's face darkens. "What was that?" she growls, her cat-like eyes narrowing menacingly.

I raise my eyebrows, holding up my hands. "Whoa there, I was just joking!"

Melinda sticks her nose in the air. "That's what I thought." She turns around to answer one of the Slytherin guys who's started flirting with her.

Meredith sticks her nose in the air and swishes her dirty-blonde hair, performing a great impression of Melinda, causing us all to snigger.

"So, everyone," I say after Melinda turns back around. "How do you feel about being Sorted into Slytherin?"

"I'm psyched," Selena replies enthusiastically. "I can't wait to join the team this year. For my whole life, I've pictured myself in Slytherin, and now I'm just picturing how proud my parents will be..."

"Same here," Penelope adds. "My father went to Hogwarts and he was Sorted into Slytherin. He said that he doesn't know a single Slytherin who didn't become great."

"I'm pretty happy, too," Meredith comments. "I've heard that Slytherin gets people far in life."

"I am _perfect_ for Slytherin," Melinda purrs. "I demanded that the filthy hat put me into Slytherin, or else..."

"I think I'll like Slytherin," I put in, ignoring Melinda, who is obviously brooding over every horrible thing she can possibly do to the Sorting Hat. "Buddy says Slytherin will help me become great, and that sounds agreeable to me."

To be honest, I'm relieved that I'm in Slytherin. How redundant would it have been if I were Sorted into Gryffindor? I would've been just another red-haired, hotheaded, Gryffindor Weasley. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's being considered 'normal'. So I make it a priority to stand out, and being a Slytherin Weasley contributes to that.

"I love how Aella named the Sorting Hat," Meredith says. "Some people think it's weird, but I think it's a good idea. I mean, 'The Sorting Hat' isn't exactly the prettiest name out there, now is it?"

Melinda tosses her hair. "I think it's a stupid idea," she declares. "Like, what a waste of time!"

Really, I feel bad for Buddy. He had to survive a full three seconds on Melinda's empty head.

"You know what's really a waste of time, Melinda?" I retort. "Trying to talk to you without getting a migraine."

Melinda scoffs. "Since when do I give people migraines?"

Penelope groans and rubs her head. "_Idiota_, please! You're making my head explode right at this moment!"

Penelope and I exchange a grin.

Melinda opens her mouth to strike again, but I hold up my hand. "So anyway, about Slytherin. I think us _four_," I put an emphasis on the word 'four', shooting a pointed glance at Melinda. "Are going to have a blast in Slytherin."

"Definitely!" Selena confirms. "Do you guys know about the Blackmail room?"

"The Blackmail Room?" a guy next to Selena perks up. "Oh, I've heard of that! It's so cool!"

"What is it?" I ask.

"The Blackmail Room is basically the best thing that's ever happened to Slytherin," the guy explains, mischief gleaming in his eyes. "It's a room that branches off the Slytherin Common Room. There are files of useful information in there about every non-Slytherin student currently attending Hogwarts. The information is generally used for noble deeds like revenge and blackmailing; that's why it's called the Blackmail Room."

"They've done a lot of things to protect it," a nearby Prefect girl adds. "To get into the Slytherin Common Room there are two passwords. One password, the main password, opens the door to the Common Room and dorms, and the other password, the master password, opens those, the Blackmail Room, the entrances to all the secret passages, and the...er...'storage' rooms. Except no one really uses them for storage. They're where the older Slytherins make out and stuff."

"Ew," some of us say in unison.

The Prefect shrugs, brushing a strand of dark brown hair out of her eyes. "Hey, just speaking the truth. Anyway, the reason there are two passwords is that anyone from any house can figure out the main password, but only the Slytherins and our Head of House know about the master password. Both passwords change every fortnight, so make sure you check the bulletin board for password updates."

"Thanks," I tell her. "I was wondering, will the Prefects get mad at us if we associate with Gryffindors?"

"Get mad at you guys?" the Prefect laughs. "Of course not! We usually choose not to hang with the Gryffindorks, you know, because they're stupid prats, but if you want to hang with your cousins, go right ahead. As long as you don't spill our passwords or secret pranks, we won't mind. Oh, and don't get involved in the prank wars we have with them until you're a little older. Gryffindorks see Slytherin First Years as lion food."

Penelope lights up. "What was that about pranks?" she asks, grinning.

The Prefect girl returns her grin, and so does the Prefect boy next to her. "In case you didn't know, we Slytherins are the elite pranksters of Hogwarts," the boy answers. "We mainly target the Gryffindors, just because their reactions are hilarious. Parks, remember when we were in Third Year and we rigged all their Exploding Snap cards to explode whenever they're touched?"

The Prefect girl, apparently named Parks, starts laughing. "Oh, yeah! That was hilarious! Anyway, First Years, the difference between Gryffindor pranks and Slytherin pranks is that Gryffindor pranks are riskier and Slytherin pranks are cleverer. Our's are usually a double bite. They not only inconvenience the Gryffindors, but also get them in trouble."

"Don't worry, we aren't as prejudiced against the Gryffindorks as we probably sound," the boy clarifies. "Oh wait - yes we are. They prank us back just as hard. This inter-house prank war has been going on for over a thousand years."

"Wow..." I say in awe. There are so many things I never knew about Slytherin. "This is going to be a fun seven years."

"You'll love it," the boy affirms. "I'm Ed, by the way. Ed Faulkner. And this is Marcy Parks, but don't call her Marcy, or she'll murder you. Call her Parks. We're both Fifth-Year Prefects, as you can probably tell by now. Tell us if you need anything, 'kay?"

"A word of caution:" Parks adds. "Don't give any older Slytherins sass, or it will come back to bite you. Trust me, I learned that lesson when I was your age. The two of us are pretty much as nice as Slytherins get, that's why we're Prefects, so the others might not be as warm toward you guys. Just don't mess with the older Snakes, especially the Seventh Years, and they won't mess with you."

We nod as Ed and Parks return to their own conversation. I yelp as the guy to my left reaches over to my plate and snatches a roll, munching it smugly while the other guys laugh. "Hey, that was my roll!"

"Yep, I know," the guy says, taking another bite of the roll and grinning.

I raise my eyebrows at him and pluck his own roll off his plate, shoving it into my own mouth.

The guy gapes at me. "Whoa, Weasley, what was that for?" he asks, pretending to be deeply offended. "That was so mean!"

The boys near him join in. "Yeah, Weasley!"

"Come on, Weasley!"

"Don't be a hater!"

"Weasley, you're so mean!"

"What?!" I protest, raising my arms in surrender. "How - What - I -"

The guys start laughing as I just sit there, trying to come up with the right words. "Who are you, anyway?" I demand, unable to keep from grinning.

"I'm Phil Peach, but everyone just calls me Peach. And you took my roll! You're causing world hunger, Weasley!" Peach accuses jokingly.

"And you're causing global warming with your bright red hair!" adds Jessie Snowyowl, that crazy guy with the curly hair, and the guys start laughing even harder.

Suddenly, right on beat, Jessie burps so loudly that the rest of the Slytherin table turns and gawks, most laughing.

"And you, Jessie, are causing greenhouse gases!" I declare.

The guys start howling with laughter, and I lean back, satisfied with their reaction. I get the best feeling when people laugh at my comebacks.

"Ew, Weasley, you're so immature!" Melinda spits.

"Heh, your _mom's_ so immature!" one of the other guys, Noah Pucey I think, responds, rewarded with chortles and laughs.

"Ugh, I don't get your jokes!" Melinda huffs, tossing her hair back.

Peach imitates her hair-toss, and I crack up.

"I don't get _your mom_!" the Noah exclaims. Everyone starts laughing at Melinda's confused and disgusted scowl.

"What? That doesn't even make sense!"

"Your_ mom_ don't make sense!" Noah laughs.

"OHHH!" the others guys give him high-fives. "Good one, Noah!"

I don't think I'll ever understand the guy phenomenon that is 'Your Mom' jokes. They usually make no sense, yet somehow, if delivered correctly, they'll earn you a lot of laughs, particularly from guys.

Melinda gasps. "Ex-ca-use me?"

I snicker, raising my eyebrows. "Well, if you'll 'ex-ca-use' me, Your Majesty, last time I checked the word 'excuse' had two syllables, not three."

"OHHH!" the guys laugh harder than ever, partially at the way Melinda's face is now screwed up like a pug.

"I'll get you for this, Weasley," she growls. "You might think you're so clever, but really, you're just an ugly freak."

"Your _mom_ is an ugly freak!" Noah articulates. I send him a grateful smile, because now Melinda is so angry that I swear I can see steam spewing out of her ears. No one really gets 'Your Mom' jokes, but the effect they have on people is amazing.

"_My_ mom is Pansy Parkinson, and she was the most popular witch in her year when she was in school!" Melinda defends haughtily.

"Pansy Parkinson?" Jessie snorts. "Honey, everyone hated her, even the Slytherins! She was like a pug, and her face was all like -" He screws up his face, making him look accurately like a pug. "Woof! Woof!"

As I'm laughing, the voice of Buddy the Sorting Hat finds its way into my head. _You have great leadership to bring to Slytherin house, Rose Weasley. Use it well_.

Maybe so, but I don't really feel too good about the idea of ending all the fun of teasing Melinda. After all, it's fair; Melinda was being nasty to us in the beginning of dinner. I feel no sympathy for the snobby little prat, but maybe we should lay off on her for a bit.

"Wow, Jessie," I say, changing the subject. "Anyway, does anyone know who our Head of House is this year?"

"I believe we have a new one, _bellissima_," Hermes Kaligaris, Penelope's twin brother, replies in a thick Italian accent. He has the same black hair, dark features, and seductive smirk. I roll my eyes at his use of an Italian term of endearment. "I heard Slughorn retired, so perhaps they'll need a new Potions teacher and a new Head of House. However, I don't know who he or she is."

"Students!" McGonagall calls. After a bit of shushing the Great Hall quiets down. "Thank you. We have a last minute announcement. With the retirement of Professor Slughorn, we would like to take a moment to welcome the new Potions professor and Slytherin Head of House, Professor Medea Nivalis!"

We applaud politely as a lady arises from her seat at the head table, smiling and waving elegantly. Her hair is wavy and light brown, tied up in a ponytail, emphasizing her pointed chin and pale skin as white as snow. Even though she comes off as graceful and beautiful, there's something about her that unsettles me.

_Oh shut up Rose_, I tell myself. _You've always had a habit of distrusting people from the second you lay eyes on them, you know that._

Yes, I'm probably being quick to judge, as usual. In general, I'm very suspicious of people, and I always have been. Even though I'm aware that I shouldn't judge Professor Nivalis right away, something's telling me that I need to keep an eye on her.

"It scares me that McGonagall introduces her just as I mention a new Head of House," Hermes whispers.

"I heard McGonagall is a great Legilimens," Selena whispers back. "Maybe that's why."

"McGonagall sneaking into my mind, _cara_?" Hermes shivers and puts down his Treacle Tart. "I'm not so sure that I like that..."

"It is an honor to finally return to Hogwarts after I graduated years ago," Nivalis says, beaming. Her voice is smooth, sly, almost like that of a serpent. "I am very excited to teach you all, and also to become the Head of the House I was Sorted into, Slytherin. Thank you."

She sits back down, and we applaud again, then the chatter resumes. "Wow, the new professor looks _good_," Peach comments.

"Your mom looks good," Noah responds, cutting his steak.

Peach snorts. "Okay, shut up."

"Whatever, man," Noah shrugs, taking a bite of the slightly pink meat. "I'm kinda bummed that Slughorn retired. I wanted to get into the Slug Club so bad!"

"My mom was in the Slug Club," I say. "She says they had parties and food and stuff, but it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Those who weren't in the Slug Club thought they were prats."

"I'll say," Noah replies. "I mean, what's the benefit? All it means is that a teacher fancies you."

"Maybe Nivalis will have a club like that," Peach muses, gazing at her. "Wow, she looks so _good_..."

"Good?" Jessie laughs. "She look like da White Witch!"

We burst out laughing, partially because of Jessie's great delivery of his joke. His strange New York-Caribbean-Cajun accent sounds strangely like that of Queen Latifah, and that's part of what makes it funny.

For the rest of dinner, we discuss what we've heard about Slytherin and what we'll do tomorrow and things like that. I eat so much food that I feel like my stomach is going to explode if I eat one more bite. I'm feeling even better about being a Slytherin, now that I'm acquainted with the Slytherins in my year.

When McGonagall dismisses us by House, Ed and Parks lead the First Years out of the Great Hall ahead of the others. As we trek down the many flights of stairs it takes to reach Slytherin Dungeon, we gasp at the multitude of portraits hanging on the walls, waving and greeting us.

"The Slytherin Dungeon is literally under the castle, in the Black Lake," Parks tells us as we descend the moving stairways. "You can see underwater when you look through the windows of the Common Room and the dorms. We like to wave to the Mermaids whenever they swim by. The friendly ones wave back, but the mean ones make rude gestures. It amazes me that even Mermaids know about the middle finger."

"Sometimes, you'll wake up to the sight of the Giant Squid swimming past you right outside the window," Ed adds. "If you do, don't be scared. He's actually quite friendly. We named him Squidney, or just Sid for short. If you wave to him, sometimes he'll wave back. Sid also tends to tap on the windows when he's hungry. When he does, it's nice to go to the feeding pipe in the corner of the Common Room and drop in some food, and Sid will swim down there and suck in the food. He'll eat anything; a few years ago, this girl Jessica Maynard 'accidentally' spilled some _Merlin's Pants! The World's Fifth Spiciest Chili Sauce _into the feeding pipe, and Sid loved it. Like, he started doing the Macarena. Ever since, we feed him one bottle of _Merlin's Pants!_ every week."

"And in case any of you have heard the rumor that we sacrifice one of our First Years to Sid every full moon at midnight, don't worry, it's not true," Parks says. "That's just a lie the Gryffindorks made up to get revenge on us when we told Filch they were breeding Blast-Ended Skrewts in their Common Room. Oh, and the Blast-Ended Skrewt thing was all a lie, by the way. At least, we think so..."

"You never know," Ed states. "The Gryffindorks do keep some pretty weird things in their Common Room..."

Parks shoots Ed a warning glance and gestures at us. "Eh, these ones don't need to know about that yet. Anyway, I'd recommend memorizing the route from the Great Hall to Slytherin Dungeon. It's quite complicated, so the Prefects wrote a song to teach First Years who need help remembering it:"

The two of them sing rapidly, "Take a left, take a right, take a left, right, left, down the stairs, to the right, down the stairs again, down the stairs, take a left, down the stairs once more, to the -" they both take a deep breath. "RIIIIIIIIIIGHT, and you are here."

"That's to the tune of William Tell Overture in C major by Gioachino Rossini, isn't it?" I ask, recognizing that well-known melody.

"Um..." the two exchange a glance. "Sure," Parks says. "Wow, you're smart! That's good; pretty much everyone in Slytherin is smart. Well, to a certain extent..." She gestures at Ed.

"Hey!" he yelps indignantly as we snigger.

"Yeah, we aren't exactly the warmest crowd in the world, either," Parks states. "Hey, we're here!"

I stop to take in my surroundings. Ahead of us lies an immense stone wall, with torches wielding green fire hanging on either side of it. A portrait of a serpent hangs in the center, probably the entrance to the Common Room.

"Slytherins!" a girl nearby hollers in a loud, commanding tone. A Prefect badge and a Head Girl badge both glisten on her black and green robes. The 70 Slytherins quiet down almost immediately. "Thank you. Welcome back to Slytherin House, and to you First Years, congratulations on being Sorted into the best house there is and ever will be. I'm assuming Ed and Parks have filled you in on Squidney and the Blackmail Room and the passwords and everything. Anyway, I won't keep you guys for long. Just remember, if you have any spare food on you, be nice and feed some to Squidney. That's all. I'm unlocking the dungeon with the master password, alright?" She turns to the portrait of the serpent. "_Ingeniosi vaccas_!"

"Yes, ma'am," the serpent hisses. "Just be careful not to die."

"Huh?" some of the First Years grunt.

"That's Nugarum," an older girl whispers. "We call him Nug. He's completely insane. It's no coincidence that 'Nugarum' means 'nonsense' in Latin."

"Speaking of Latin, what does _Ingeniosi Vaccas_ mean?" I ask, recalling the password.

"Genious cows," she answers. "Nug makes up the passwords, as you can probably tell."

"Thanks," the Head Girl snorts. "Just let us in, Nug."

Nug chuckles. "Well, you know what they say: Without pants, the world would be a jelly-filled donut." The portrait flips open, revealing a round tunnel.

All the First Years burst out laughing. "Well, it actually makes sense," I point out. "Jelly-filled donuts don't have holes, so they have something missing. A world without pants would have something missing, that being pants. Therefore, they are alike."

"Good analogy, Weasley. Nug likes it when people understand his insanity. We'll go in order of year," the Head Girl commands. "First Years first, then Second Years, and so on, just so we don't all crowd the tunnel."

Some of the older Slytherins grumble to themselves because they'll have to wait to enter last. "Enjoy having Sabrina McIntyre as Head Girl while you can," Ed whispers to us. "Usually, whenever we have a Head Girl or Boy, they take advantage of the younger ones and boss them around and make them go last at everything. But Sabrina is so fair that some people think she should be in Hufflepuff."

"Sounds good to me," Meredith says.

"Go on ahead, First Years," Sabrina calls. "You guys can either hang out in the Common Room for awhile or go up to your dorms, or check out some of the secret rooms. You can stay up as late as you want to, because tomorrow's Saturday. Have fun!"

The nine of us stand there, awkwardly looking around. "I'll go first," I say finally. I climb into the tunnel and crawl to the other end, then slide out, swinging my legs onto the ground. As I stop and survey my surroundings, the only thing I can say is..."Wow."

The Common Room is grand yet mysterious, ornately decorated with silver and many shades of green. Torches bearing green fire cast an eerie luminescence along the walls. Leather armchairs, foot rests, and dark wooden tables are spread out among the room, and the walls are decorated with tapestries and portraits of serpents and famous Slytherins. The long, rectangular windows reveal the blue-green water of the Black Lake, casting a greenish glow throughout the room. A dark figure floats past it, and I yelp, only to realize that it's just Squidney, rubbing a tentacle against the window, making a squeaky noise. I make a mental note to check out the feeding tube soon.

In various spots around the room are circular openings to tunnels which I'm guessing lead to the different rooms. I peer into one of them and find that it branches into other tunnels, each with a green fire torch on either side of it. I wonder what each one leads to besides the dorms and the Blackmail Room. Slytherin probably holds far more secrets than Ed and Parks told us about. If Scorpius, Albus, and Cat were in Slytherin too, what a blast we would have exploring the tunnels...

One by one, the other First-Years climb out of the tunnel, gaping at the splendor of the common room. "This is bloody brilliant!" Noah exclaims. "It's how my dad described it to me, but even better!"

"Look, it's Sid!" Meredith points to the floating creature, still squeaking against the window. "Blimey, this is so cool!"

"My hair's messed up," Melinda grumbles, climbing out of the tunnel and toying with strands of her jet black hair.

"Your mom's messed up!" is the reply that comes from, well, take a wild guess...

"OHHH!" the guys laugh. "That was good!"

"That was awful!" Melinda snaps at Noah.

"You set yourself up for that one, _bellissima,_" Hermes laughs smoothly.

"Whoa, green fire!" Peach dashes up to one of the torches, holding his hand a distance above it. "Is it hot?"

Jessie places his hand closer to it, then jumps back and yelps. "Oh my lord, it's almost as hot as me!" He strikes a comical modeling pose.

"That must be some really cold fire, then," I reply smugly.

Everyone else starts laughing as Jessie makes a pug face and snaps his fingers between my eyes. "Oh lord, honey, you better get yourself some better comebacks!"

"So did your mom!" Noah cuts in.

"OHHH!" the guys shout.

"Whoa, First Years, loud much?" asks one of the group of Third Years that enters next. "Not that we care. This is Slytherin House, we party as late as we want to!"

The group hoots and hollers as they crawl through one of the tunnels.

"Okay, now I want to know what's inside each of those tunnels," Meredith says. "I'm guessing that each main tunnel is for a different Year of kids, and each of those tunnels splits off into the girls' and boys' dorms, but there's much more than seven tunnels. I say we go check 'em out?"

"Sure," I reply, my excitement growing every second. I'm dying to know what those tunnels are hiding. "Which one should we go into first?"

"Well, the ones with the large numbers one through seven above them are probably the dorms for each year," Selena muses. "So, how about..." she points to a random unlabeled tunnel. "This one!"

We all glance at each other, nodding. "Okay, let's go, then," I say. "I'll take the lead."

Unquestioned, I head toward the tunnel and climb right in. I realize that subconsciously, I weighed out all the possibilities of the dangers that could lurk inside. To be honest, I highly doubt there's anything dangerous in there. After all, it begins in the Common Room, and people probably use it all the time for whatever its purpose is.

"I'm staying behind," Melinda declares, tossing her hair prissily. "My hair is already mussed up enough as it is, and besides, I need my beauty sleep." Without another word, she turns and pauses, as if expecting people to follow her. When we don't, she exits into the tunnel with the number '1' over it, much to our joy and relief.

"Beauty sleep?" Penelope quips sarcastically. "Yes, we can all see what good _that's_ doing her."

Laughing, I crawl into the tunnel on my hands and knees, gazing up at the green fire torches. The flames reflect off the tunnel walls, glistening and dancing an eerie tango. The tunnel is quite clean, made of shiny black obsidian. Tiny little fissures are embedded in the stone, resembling something like a spider web or many bolts of lightning. The fissures glow bright green, adding to the ghostly effect. It's a bit creepy, but quite frankly, I like the aura, sleek yet kind of spooky.

I peer up ahead, and I notice three other tunnels that branch off of this one, bathed in the green glow. "For Merlin's sake, does this tunnel ever end?" I mutter.

"It's safe," I call to the others. "There's three other tunnels that branch out from this one. You coming?"

They murmur in assent. One by one, Meredith first, they crawl into the tunnel after me, oohing and aahing at the glowing lights. Once they all reach the crossroads, I turn around and face them, kneeling down.

"So apparently there's three tunnels," Peach says.

"No, really?" Jessie gasps sarcastically. "You'll end up as the Valedictorian if you keep making brilliant observations like that."

"Dude, which one should we go into?" Noah asks. "I say we go into them all, but how 'bout the one on the left first?"

I turn to the others and shrug. "Alright, then. Left one it is."

Brushing my hands on my pants, I lean onto my hands and knees again and press on into the left tunnel. The cold obsidian bites at my skin, coming as a shock every time it makes contact with the stone. I can see a light at the end now, glowing with a greenish tinge. "Light up ahead!" I call. "There's some sort of room."

I crawl even faster, excitement bubbling up inside of me. If Scorpius, Cat, and Albus were here, they would love this so much...

Finally, I reach the end of the tunnel, peering into the green aura. Just like the tunnel, this room is constructed of black obsidian with glowing green lining. Mannequins are arrayed neatly across the room, each garbed in a Slytherin Quidditch robe. Next to each mannequin are various artifacts, from brooms to trophies to Quidditch boots, some things locked securely in display cases. I swing my legs onto the ground and step forward as the others begin piling out. "Looks like some kind of exhibitional menagerie," I muse, pacing around the mannequins.

"And what exactly is an exhibitional menagerie?" Meredith questions.

"You see, if you break the phrase apart, the word 'menagerie' is derived from the French word, which is phonetically denoted as -"

"Shut up, Weasley," most of the others say in unison.

I raise my eyebrows at them. "Well," I huff indignantly. They laugh in return.

"So I assume this is it?" Hermes asks, fingering one of the Quidditch robes. "It seems to be only a collection of old artifacts from past Slytherin Quidditch teams."

"Yeah, or an exhibitional mena-bleh-bleh," Peach chuckles.

I punch him in the stomach as retaliation, and he lets out a little shriek. The other Slytherins laugh at his sudden outburst of unmanliness.

Peach sticks his tongue out at me, swiftly yanks out my silver and green tie (which was originally black, but as soon as I got Sorted, it turned into Slytherin colors), and throws it across the room while the others laugh even harder.

"Peach," I say, shaking my head, though I can't help but chuckle. "Just...just don't be that guy, Peach."

"I am that guy..." Peach replies, grinning. "That...awesome guy!" He strikes a ridiculous pose, and we all just stand there and shake our heads, laughing.

"Wow, good one, Peach," I comment sarcastically, walking over and grabbing my tie. "I'm surprised the Sorting Hat didn't place you in Ravenclaw when it saw your wits."

"Rose, dear _amico_," Penelope quips facetiously, placing her hand on Peach's shoulder. "I'm afraid the Sorting Hat cannot see what Peach does not have."

"Oh yeah!" I exchange a rather tacky high-five with Penelope.

"This is...this is awesome..." Selena gasps in awe, perusing the mannequins and display cases, amber eyes glowing with relish as if this room is heaven on earth. "Look, there's Draco Malfoy's robes and broom! And Mary King's robe and Keeper's gloves! And - Blimey, it's my dad's Quidditch things! He was Captain, you know, and a Chaser. Oi! Pucey! Are these your dad's robes? These robes say 'Pucey' on the back."

"Probably is," Noah answers, rushing over excitedly. "Yep, that's him! Adrian Pucey!"

Jessie lets out a yawn and stretches his arms. "I'm tired. I'm goin' to bed, 'cuz this big man needs his beauty sleep, even though he can't get any more beautiful than he already is."

Peach sniggers. "Okay, Melinda Zabini. Yeah, I'm coming, too. Bye!"

Peach follows Jessie back into the tunnel. Noah sighs. "Yeah, I guess I'd better crash, dudes. I'll come check out the rest of the tunnels tomorrow, right? See ya!" He climbs into the tunnel, and after a few more farewells, the Kaligaris twins exit too, leaving just Selena, Meredith, and me.

"Well, then," Meredith states. "That dwindled down quickly."

"Yeah," I reply, shrugging. "Hey, is there any particular reason why Noah talks like a New Yorker?"

"I doubt New Yorkers talk like that anymore," says Meredith. "I think that's just a stereotype."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and huff. Even if it's about the littlest, most insignificant things, there's one thing I hate with an indescribable passion: Being corrected. Even when I realize that I'm actually wrong, I still get very irritated. Dad says I get that from Mum; he says she can never stand being corrected.

"This is wicked!" Selena exclaims, completely engrossed in the Quidditch display. "There's the robes of Lucinda Talkalot, Slytherin Captain in the 1970's. And there's Lucius Malfoy, Captain and Keeper -"

"I hate to say this, but I think I might head up to the dorms and start unpacking," Meredith says. "I need to give my toad Arnold some air."

We say goodbye, and Meredith crawls back into the tunnel, leaving only Selena and I. I have a premonition that she won't be leaving for quite awhile. I don't know why, but something about this area intrigues me. I think I'll stick around for awhile...

Selena ends up going to the dorms after awhile, but only because she says she's so exhausted that she fears she might collapse if she doesn't get into bed in a few minutes. This surprises me; I half expected her to be down here all night, what with the way she was gazing at the Quidditch artifacts with pure awe. However, I don't plan on heading up to bed any time soon. Something inside of me is urging me to stay down here and do some exploring, probably the instinct for mischief that I've inherited from the Weasley family.

Then again, what else is there to explore? Perhaps the other tunnels simply contain storage rooms and or old exhibitions. Besides, I'm just starting to realize how exhausted I am, and I'll need to start unpacking. I secretly packed all eight of my instruments in my trunk, even my piano, by convincing Uncle George to put shrinking charms on each of them, so I can regrow them when I get to Hogwarts. I don't know exactly when or where I'll practice on them, but the point is, I need to unpack them and find a place to store them...

_The storage rooms!_

Perfect! Ed and Parks mentioned the storage rooms during the feast. Parks said that the older Slytherins go into the storage rooms to make out, but I'm sure there's some decent storage space inside them. Before going to bed, I'll search for a storage room, and then tomorrow I'll regrow my instruments and bring them into the storage room. It probably won't take too long to find one.

I turn around and crawl back into the tunnel, making my way back to where the tunnel splits off into the three separate tunnels. The silence is eerie, echoing off the glowing walls. A shiver runs up my spine. I don't like being alone in the dark. I feel vulnerable, unprotected, like anything can harm me.

Now I can see why I wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor. If I get scared in the dark, how would I act in the face of real danger?

I force myself to press on and crawl even faster, blocking my nervous thoughts out of my mind. There probably isn't anything dangerous down here. In fact, people probably pass through here all the time.

Finally, I reach the crossroads of the three tunnels, this time entering the one in the center. This one looks quite the same as the other tunnel; black walls, glowing emerald cracks, torches with green fire on each side of the entrance. It takes a short time to reach the end of it, and when I do, I climb out a bit tentatively; after hearing what Parks said, I'm a bit paranoid that I'm going to walk in on some older Slytherins. Luckily, however, the room is devoid of people. Just like the Quidditch exhibition room, the walls are made of obsidian with the general glowing-green concept. It's filled with many cubicles, big and small, with cabinets and chests and boxes, neatly arrayed throughout the room.

I grin to myself. This is perfect!

I walk around to survey the storage spaces. _I'll take a quarter of this room for myself. I can put the bass clarinet in that huge cubicle, then the flute, clarinet, trumpet, and oboe on each of these smaller shelves. The tenor sax can go in the big cubicle next to the cubicle with the bass clarinet. Then the cello will sit in the biggest cubicle, and I'll just place the piano in the corner and put an invisibility charm on it, when I learn how..._

Now that I know where I'll store the instruments, I think that I'd best be heading to bed. I'll regrow and bring down the instruments tomorrow, but I should probably begin unpacking my things. _  
_

Just as I turn around to exit the room, something glittering catches my eye, gleaming in the dim light in the corner of the room. I step next to it, my curiosity growing with every passing second. It's a mark in the wall, a sort of indentation, glittering silver and green and shaped like a serpent. The indentation grows unnaturally bright, as though a charm has been placed on it. I reach out and touch my finger tentatively to the little glowing serpent.

"Ah!"

I yelp and jump back, scrambling away from the serpent indentation. It vibrated when I touched it, a jolt racing through my body. It grows brighter and brighter, beams of light emanating from it, blinding my eyes. I flatten myself against the opposite wall, cowering away from the stretching beams. They reflect off the walls, luminescent in the darkness. The green and silver mass of light grows larger and larger, enveloping the whole wall.

I turn my face away from the blinding light. "Help!" I scream, willing someone to hear me from the end of the tunnels. "Somebody! Please!"

Then suddenly, as if on cue, the beams vanish, leaving squiggly lines dancing in my vision. I stand in shock, wide-eyed and panting, adrenaline still rushing through my veins. Only one thought runs through my mind:

_What the heck was that_?

I only touched the indentation! I didn't try to trigger some supernatural force or something. I simply reached out, lightly tapped the serpent shape, and of course it has to nearly blow up the entire storage room. What was that light substance, anyway? Was it dangerous? I highly doubt it. But why would this random indentation be installed in a secluded storage room, only to spit out pointless beams of light?

I step tentatively to where the serpent mark is. Well actually, where the serpent mark _was_. A hole now lies in its place, an entrance to a tunnel big enough for one to crawl through.

As if I haven't been through enough tunnels already.

I take a step toward the tunnel, peering inside. Strangely, I can't see inside of it, that's how pitch black it is. Maybe I shouldn't go in there. There could be dangerous things in that tunnel, and besides, I don't know if it's against the school rules or whatnot.

Oh great, now I sound like Mum.

On the other hand, something inside me is urging me to go into the tunnel. How else will I find out what's in there? That serpent indentation probably transformed into a tunnel for a reason. Realistically, if I go to bed without scoping out this tunnel, curiosity will be nagging me so much that I won't be able to sleep.

I take a deep breath, scolding myself for being such an idiot.

Then I climb into the tunnel, step over the edge, and -

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH HHHH!"

I feel myself plummeting downward, faster and faster. I grit my teeth together as I try to reach out for a wall, only to find myself grasping thin air. My stomach does a quick flip-flop as I tumble down the abyss, screaming at the top of my lungs. When I hit the bottom, it won't be pretty -

"Oof!"

I emit a muffled cry as a spear of pain runs through my nose, landing face-down on something soft...and...plush?

Rubbing my nose, I sit up groggily, surveying my surroundings. I was right about the plush part; I've landed on a floor of what seems to be extremely thick bouncy carpeting, and yes, it feels as weird as it sounds. A dark chamber surrounds me, illuminated with more of those green fire torches. I moan to myself. How will I ever get myself out of here?

I look straight ahead of me, and I nearly yelp in surprise. Right in front of me, gazing calmly at me as if it's no surprise that a random human has tumbled hundreds of feet into its chamber, is a big, huge white serpent.

It floats in the air in front of the bean bag, head cocked slightly, its tail swishing slowly. It's slightly translucent, white and glittering. The serpent holds a certain air of elegance, although it comes across as quiet proud, almost arrogant.

A Patronus.

"H-hi," I say, crab-walking backwards cautiously. "So, um...what's...what's up?"

I mentally scold myself for my ineloquent word choice.

"Welcome, Rose Weasley, to the Slytherin Headquarters for the Hogwarts Inter-House Challenge." the serpent says in a cool, soothing female voice. "Here, you – "

"Ma'am, if I may interrupt, I'm sorry, but I'm not exactly sure what that is," I cut in calmly, plastering on a pleasant smile to cover up my confusion.

Well, actually, I'm really thinking _What in the name of Merlin's pants is this serpent thing talking about?_ But I wouldn't say that to it. In case this situation involves persuasion, I need to act somewhat charming.

"I was getting to that," the Patronus says, still coolly but with a bit of sharpness to its tone. "Now sit down, for this is going to take quite a long time."

I sit cross-legged on the plush floor, still having no remote idea of what's going on.

The serpent Patronus licks its lips. "Very well, then," it says. "Be sure to pay attention to every detail.

"In the time of the four great founders of Hogwarts, the founders were having an argument. It was not a full-fledged fight, only a simple debate. The founders disagreed about whose House would contain the most students who would become great and renowned. Godric Gryffindor argued that Gryffindors would become the greatest because of their courage and chivalry, and their willingness to take risks. Rowena Ravenclaw debated that Ravenclaws would become the greatest because 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure'. That was the first time she used that maxim. Salazar Slytherin stated that Slytherins will possess the most prominent greatness because of their cunning and tendency to think before they act. Helga Hufflepuff, however, believed that it was pointless for them all to waste their time quarreling, because bravery, wit, and cunning are all equally honorable in a person. Despite this, she did firmly assert that Hufflepuffs can be just as great as those of the other three Houses, because fairness and justice are what keeps the world from down-spiraling into chaos and wickedness. After hours of debating, the four founders could not come to an agreement, though Hufflepuff reminded them that if they kept arguing, there never would be an agreement. Finally, Ravenclaw decided that their debate needed to end eventually, especially because Gryffindor and Slytherin were becoming particularly heated with each other, as they tended to do, despite being friends.

"Ravenclaw proposed that if somehow, one representative from each House could gather together to compete for a prize that would award the winner great glory, their argument could finally be settled, even if the founders were dead by the time these representatives were gathered together. Gryffindor and Slytherin both agreed to the idea, though Hufflepuff was unsure. Nevertheless, the four began planning the competition.

"Hidden cleverly in each House would be a glowing indentation in the wall. When pressed, the indentation would open up into a portal that would transport the student to that House's secret competition headquarters. That House's founder's Patronus would appear to the student and explain the competition to the student, as I am doing now. If the student declines to enter the competition, the memory of every detail about the competition's existence is obliviated from the student's mind, and he or she is automatically transported out of the Headquarters.

"However, if the student chooses to accept, they will be given a task that they must complete in order to become a representative for the competition. This task requires whatever traits pertain to the student's House. For example, a Ravenclaw would receive a task that requires wit and creativity, a Hufflepuff would receive a task that requires honesty and good judgment, and so on. Once the student completes the task successfully, they become that House's representative for the competition.

"You are probably wondering by now what the competition is, or perhaps you are quite confused. Whatever you may be feeling, please save your questions for the end of my long and painstaking lecture. Moving on, the four founders constructed a Labyrinth, full of tricks and deceptions. When all four of the representatives have completed their task, they will all gather at the entrance of the Labyrinth and race to the center, where the prize is located. I cannot tell you what the prize is; however, rest assured that the prize is one of the greatest treasures one can imagine. Know that the Labyrinth cannot be completed in a single day. After the representatives enter the Labyrinth for the first time, they can take a break whenever they wish. They shout an incantation that will transport them back to their dormitories. The representatives may work on their progress any time they wish. Do you understand everything so far?"

For once, I actually can't find the words to say. I don't think my brain has processed much of the five-minute lecture I've just received. "With all due respect, ma'am," I finally get out. "I don't know if I've fully grasped everything."

The Patronus shows barely any sign of irritation. "You will be given a task that requires cunning and persuasion. If you complete the task, you get to compete in a competition against three other representatives from each of the three other Houses."

Well, then. She could have just explained it that way.

"Has this competition happened before?" I ask.

"No," the Patronus replies. "There have never been four representatives, one from each house, that all have discovered the portal in the wall and completed their task successfully. Even to find the indentation in the wall is very rare, because it moves every year and is always located in a well-concealed place."

Suddenly, a thought enters my mind, a thought that both excites and unsettles me. Scorpius, Cat, and Albus are in Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff. If I tell them about the portal hidden in each of their Houses, and they all complete their task, what if we all compete against each other in this competition?

"Am I allowed to tell anyone about this?" I ask.

"That is according to your judgment," the Patronus answers. "No one knows about it because everyone who has discovered the portal to the Headquarters so far has had that memory obliviated. Even if three people, all in different Houses, discover the portal and complete their tasks, if there is no fourth person, the competition cannot take place. Therefore, they haven't told anyone, because they don't remember the existence of this competition. You may tell three other friends, but make sure that you know for certain that you can trust them."

"I'm a still bit confused," I confess. "What is the portal?"

"The portal is the indentation in the wall that you have found," the Patronus says. "You are lucky to have discovered it. In general, the portals are only discovered by chance. Now, Rose Weasley, are you ready to accept the challenge?"

"Wait!" I blurt out. "Please, ma'am, if you don't mind me asking, how do you know my name?"

"I am Salazar Slytherin's Patronus," she replies. "Slytherin was a highly talented Legilimens. Therefore, I can read your thoughts."

A shiver runs down my spine. That doesn't exactly put me at ease...

"But…Slytherin was a man, so why exactly does his Patronus have a female voice?"

"Every hundred years or so, I am automatically modified to talk in the common dialect of the current age. For some reason, my voice was modified into a female voice. Now, do you accept?"

"That depends," I muse. "What is my task?"

"You must accept the challenge, first," the Patronus says. "Then you will receive your task."

I purse my lips, considering my options. I'm still not fully sure about joining this competition. After all, I'm only a First Year. Even though I've already read through most of my textbooks, I haven't casted a single spell yet. The Patronus said that the Labyrinth contains tricks and traps. To any other Weasley, this dangerous competition would sound like the awesomest thing ever. I'm not a Gryffindor like the rest of them, though. I'm a Slytherin. Unnecessary risks are not my kind of thing.

Then again, this could be a great experience. I might not know what the prize is, but the Patronus made it sound quite appealing. Besides, this could be a great way to increase my knowledge of magic.

"Could I please have a few more details concerning the prize?" I ask, trying my best to appear meek.

"Yes. Listen carefully, for you will want to remember this:

_The prize is what the prize is not._

_A passion, a longing, that cannot be bought._

_It brings great glory, or havoc wrought_

_The prize will be, when won, hard-fought."_

_The prize is what the prize is not_...but that's a self-contradictory statement, so it must be many different things, depending on the winner..._a passion, a longing, that cannot be bought_...that means the prize is something very, very valuable that's not a material good - maybe power or wisdom..._It brings great glory or havoc wrought_...perhaps the winner could use it for good or bad..._The prize will be, when won, hard-fought_...obviously, that means the prize will be very hard to win.

"Well done, Rose Weasley," the Patronus acclaims. "You have a great sense of logic and intelligence. Yes, looking inside of you, I'm surprised that you are not a Ravenclaw. However, you do have much, much cunning and ambition..."

"Excuse me," I say, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't mean to disturb your musings, but it makes me a bit uncomfortable when people are searching inside the depths of my soul."

"I apologize," the Patronus replies, still cool and collected. "Sometimes my skill in Legilimency tempts me too much. Now, just tell me one thing, Rose Weasley. What is your deepest desire?"

I stand still, mulling over its question. My deepest desire? The truth is, I'm not quite sure. It's ironic that I can analyze others well, yet I have so much trouble analyzing myself.

I think about what would make me happiest. Riches? Nah. It would probably be fun to be rich, but the concept doesn't excite me that much. What about power? Well, that's getting closer. I love being the leader, and when someone else tries to take over...well, let's just say that's when Rose's thorns come out. But I feel like there's something else...

Recognition. That's it. I can barely describe the joy that fills me when I win a talent show, or earn praise for my music, or win a writing contest. I feel on top of the world when people adore me, look up to me, admire me.

"Why should I tell you?" I ask suspiciously. Oops. There goes acting polite.

"If you win the challenge, you could receive that deepest desire," the Patronus muses. "Recognition. Thank you."

"Wait! I haven't even accepted the challenge yet!"

"Well, do you?" the Patronus asks.

I think long and hard for a moment. "But this is my first day at Hogwarts! I don't know how to control magic yet! Could I maybe have some more time?"

"You have until the Winter Solstice to complete your task and complete the Labyrinth. By then, you will have learned the basic fundamentals of spell casting. The Labyrinth requires more intelligence and bravery than skill in magic, though I'd recommend studying hard. And it will most likely not result in death."

"Okay," I take a deep breath, knowing that I am being a total idiot. "I accept."

"Very well," the Patronus confirms. "Here is your task. You must complete it by yourself, with only minimal assistance of any live person."

"As opposed to a dead person?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Indeed. And now, your task.

"Three colonies of Merfolk reside in the Black Lake. One colony, the Doineann, is reputably vicious and warlike. They are also very prosperous, with a large kingdom located underneath the lake. Through the years, it has been discovered that the Doineann revere one of their treasures above all things: the Storm Gem. No human has ever seen it, and the Doineann guard it above all else, because it gives the them the power to create massive waves and storms. It is one of their crucial weapons, keeping them dominant over the other two colonies of Merfolk in the Black Lake. You must acquire the Storm Gem through any means possible."

"What?" I cry. "How on earth do you expect me do that?"

"You have a cunning mind," the Patronus says. "You are resourceful, clever, and very persuasive when you want to be. You are most certainly capable of completing this task."

"And what happens if I don't complete the task?"

"You will not be penalized," the Patronus assures. "If that is the case, then you will not be able to compete in the competition, and all memories you have about it will be Obliviated."

"So I have nothing to lose?" I ask slowly.

"Exactly. You will find a way, I can guarantee it. If you want to compete in the Inter-House Competition, you must prove that you are a true Slytherin, which you are. You have all the cunning, ambition, determination, and thirst for power that Salazar Slytherin valued. However, before you begin planning your ingenious plot, I would suggest getting a good night's sleep. Don't fret about this quite yet; take a few weeks to enjoy your arrival at Hogwarts. I will be here if you have any questions concerning the rules. To exit this chamber, simply press the serpent indentation to your left, and you will be transported to your dormitory."

The Patronus begins to dissolve.

"Wait!" I call.

It turns back to me, cocking its head. "Yes?"

"Will I survive this?" I ask. "I mean, will I live?"

"Yes," the Patronus responds. "Unless you die." On that mysterious note, it dissolves slowly, leaving me alone in the glowing chamber.

"Gee, what a helpful answer," I mutter.

Tomorrow, I'll tell Scorpius, Cat, and Albus about the competition and convince them to join. Sure, it might be risky, but from what the Patronus described, the prize seems well worth it. All they need to do is complete their tasks, and then we'll travel through the Labyrinth together, and we can split the prize.

But like the Patronus said, I'll need to get some rest before I start planning. I reach over and press the serpent indentation identical to the one in the storage room, knowing deep down inside that this school year is about to get extremely interesting.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and thanks for reading! Reviews make me quite happy *cough cough*. **

**By the way, just wondering, what Houses are you all in? Pottermore says I'm a Slytherin, though every other quiz says I'm a Ravenclaw, so perhaps that makes me a Slytherclaw. Tell me your Houses in your reviews!**

**I'll try to update soon! *waves***


	3. Y1: Warning - Crazy Malfoy on the Loose

**A/N: Welcome back, everyone! Thank you so much for all the reviews and favorites. They really mean a lot to me, and every time I get an email that says "New Review" or "New Story Favorite" I get so happy that I just want to get up and do the Harlem Shake! (Which is awesome, by the way. We filmed our own version of it in my Homeroom class.)**

**For now until the posting of the next chapter, 1 review for me = 1 review for you! Fine print: M-Rated fanfics not eligible.**

**Note: The pace of this story is starting off pretty slow, but I assure you, it will pick up!**

**Thanks!**

* * *

"Oi! Catherine Agnes Riddley! Get your lazy butt out of bed before we run you through with Gryffindor's sword!"

I moan and turn over, burying my head under my pillow. Yep, there's a friendly morning welcome, Gryffindor style.

Wait - Gryffindor...Friends...School...Hogwarts! I'm at Hogwarts!

I jerk up, suddenly processing the fact that I'm no longer waking up in a giant, plush, way-too-soft bed in a massive house, but now I'm waking up in a giant, plush, way-too-soft bed in a massive-er house, in a room filled with friends and scarlet and gold.

I can barely describe how much I love that.

I rub my eyes, squinting from the sunshine streaming in through the windows. A figure sits on the end of my bed, playing with a straight strand of strawberry blonde hair. I can't quite make out who she is; my eyes are still blurry. She turns around to face me, grinning. "So you're finally awake!" Dominique Weasley exclaims. "You were so knocked out! I was going to check if you were breathing, but then I realized that a strand of hair was sticking up at the top of my head, so I had to go fix it."

"Thanks for your consideration," I laugh.

"Anytime!" Dominique gets up and grabs a bottle of hairspray. "Now get out of bed before I spray this in your face!"

I swing my legs onto the soft plush rug, stretching out my arms. Natalie Andrews, Allie West, and Dominique are bustling around, brushing their hair or throwing on some clothes. Lucy is sprawled ever-so-gracefully (not) on her bed, snoring loudly.

Right now, I feel as though this is heaven on earth. For eleven years I've had to put up with being treated like royalty, being forced into thousand-dollar gowns, and made to look as pretty as a Barbie doll. Maybe that sounds fun to you, but trust me, it's torture. Constantly being ordered to act like a proper lady, reprimanded for not being as 'ladylike' or 'gifted' as my sisters, and not having any real friends got pretty redundant after awhile. But here at Hogwarts, I've made friends, I can say and wear what I want to, and no one besides Albus, Rose, and Scorp knows that I'm the President's daughter, and I want to keep it that way. The original plan was to send a bunch of security guards to follow me around, but my parents finally decided that I could just go through school without letting anyone know. That's probably the only decision they've made that I ever agreed with. I like it like this, going completely incognito. I don't have to endure etiquette classes or get my hair done or have to sneak out in the dead of night in order to fly on my broomstick. I can just be...Cat.

I reach over and pick out a Gryffindor t-shirt (the drawers are stocked with them) and some jeans. Of course, my parents made me load my trunks with all this stupid 'proper' clothing, but since I came to England alone, I sold all the stuff at a nice used-clothing store and used the money to buy some better clothes, like t-shirts and jeans. When I go home next summer, my parents probably won't even notice, seeing as I have scores of stuck-up designer clothes in my wardrobe.

Don't get me wrong - not every President's child is treated like this. For example, last year's President's daughters still did chores and wore normal clothes and had friends and stuff. But my dad is so obsessed with his reputation that everything about our family just has to be _perfect_. He's a Muggle, and my sisters all somehow turned out to be Squibs, so he tries to cover up the fact that my mom and I are witches. I'm pretty sure the only reason he agreed to send me here was to get rid of me.

"What time is it?" Natalie garbles, brushing her teeth in the bathroom nearby.

"Time to get a watch," Lucy mumbles, rolling her head to the side.

"'bout seven fifteen," Allie calls, making her bed. Allie is by far the neatest of the Gryffindor girls in my year; she hates clutter more than anything. Unfortunately for her, both me and Lucy are not neat at all, and our spaces are already strewn with stray clothes and shoes.

Dominique attaches a purple clip to her hair, matching her purple and green getup. I've never liked green and purple together, but somehow Dom makes it work with her amazing fashion sense. "Well, I'm going to breakfast. Who's coming?"

"I am," I reply, pulling on some shoes.

"Same here," Natalie says, spitting toothpaste into the sink. She wipes her mouth and joins me and Dominique as we head out the door and down the stairs.

"Me too," Allie calls, neatly folding the washcloth she was wiping the mirror with and catching up with us quickly.

I pull my hair into a high ponytail, shifting its color into dark brown with red streaks. Being a partial metamorphagus is quite useful; I used to annoy the heck out of my parents by turning my hair bright purple. I can only control my hair, but the effect it had on them was hilarious.

"That's amazing how you do that," Dominique says in awe as we walk. "I wish I could change my hair color. Every day I would change it to match my outfit."

The awesome thing about Dom is that, despite the fact that she's a fashionista, she's not a snob. I mean, I've grown up thinking the words "fashion" and "snobby" were synonyms. But as far as I can tell, she doesn't tease other people who aren't part-Veela like she is, and she's very creative with her clothes.

"So today, you would dye your hair green with purple streaks?" Allie laughs.

I grin and shift my hair to the color she just specified. The thing is, when I change my hair color, it doesn't hurt. In fact, I can barely feel it. I picture the color in my mind, urge my hair to turn that color, and then there's a little tingling sensation, and then _boom_! It's hot pink or dark red or light blue.

The three girls burst out laughing. As we head down to the Great Hall, I change my hair to extremely hideous colors just to entertain them. I'd love to see the look on my parents' faces if they saw me right now, changing my hair from orange to silver to leopard-print. They'd say, "You're destroying our reputation!" And I'd be like, "Yep, and I'm loving every minute of it!"

When we reach the four House tables, I scan the bustling crowds for one of the other...what was it...SlytherHuffleGryffinClaws, as Rose named us. Yeah, it's tacky, but I like it.

A blonde head of hair catches my eye, and I peer closer. Sure enough, Scorpius Malfoy is telling something to some other First-Year Ravenclaws with a goofy grin on his face. The group of Ravenclaws bursts out laughing suddenly, and Scorpius's grin grows even wider.

Should I go to sit with him? We might not be allowed to sit at other House tables...

Wait...since when do _I_ care about the rules?

"I'll be right back," I tell Allie, Natalie, and Dom.

"Okay."

I stroll over to the Ravenclaw table and plop down next to Scorpius, smiling casually. "Hey guys!"

"Hey," Scorpius replies. "This is Cat. She's the foreign exchange, you know, the American one."

"Hi!"

"Hey!"

"'Sup?"

"Love the purple hair!"

For the rest of breakfast, I talk with the group - Scorpius, Izzy Blackwater, Melissa Boot, Bunny Hare (his real name is Brandon Hare, its just that his silky blonde hair is as soft as bunny hair, hence the name "Bunny Hare"), and two of the Banks triplets, Peter and Marigold. I met Melissa in Diagon Alley, and I hung out with her and a few others there.

I cut into my fourth pancake, eager to taste the warm fluff inside. Even though the food was fancier at the White House, I'm finding myself enjoying this food a lot more. It tastes warm and savory and just like...like _heaven_, no matter how tacky that sounds. Trust me, robin egg omelettes and caviar and wild gooseberry preserves might sound cool, but after four years without eating homemade pancakes or hamburgers (and four more years to come, since my dad's just been reelected), you begin to appreciate regular food.

When Izzy, Melissa, Bunny, Peter, and Marigold leave, I spot a green-clad figure rushing toward us, red hair streaming out from behind her.

"I have colossal news," Rose gets to the point right away, plopping down next to Scorp and I. "Are you done eating?"

Scorpius hesitates, staring at his plate. "Well..."

Rose shoves the remainder of his French toast into her mouth. "Now you are. Come on, let's get Albus."

Scorpius and I exchange a glance as we follow Rose, who is marching purposefully toward the Hufflepuff table. We spot Albus, happily chatting with some grinning Hufflepuffs.

"Can you come with us real quick?" Rose asks him.

"I -"

"You're coming with us," Rose commands before he can get another word out. Albus lets out a yelp as Rose pulls him off his bench and drags him along.

"What was that for?" Albus protests.

"Sorry to be a prat, but it's important," Rose insists, leading us out of the Great Hall.

"Okay, bossy," Albus mutters. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"We're going to Slytherin Dungeon," Rose replies.

"Is it against the rules for non-Slytherins to go in there?" Scorpius asks.

"Yes."

"And are we going in there?"

"Yes."

"Sweet!" I exclaim. Rule-breaking has always been one of my favorite hobbies. And believe me, I'm _very_ good at it.

Albus's eyes widen with fear. "But...But what if we get caught?"

Rose turns to her cousin, her gaze piercing into him. "Albus Severus Potter," she says slowly. "If our parents had been worried about getting _caught_, they would never have discovered Sirius Black, never would have found out about the Sorcerer's Stone, never would have destroyed the Horcruxes, never would have saved your mom in the Chamber of Secrets, or fought with the Order of the Pheonix, or defeated Voldemort."

A few moments of silence pass, until Scorpius starts making fake sobbing noises. "Oh, what a great inspirational speech!" he whimpers, voice dripping with sarcasm. "That just...that just made my heart swell!"

"Shut up," Rose flicks his forehead playfully. "Let's keep going."

We continue to follow Rose, who snaps her fingers in a rhythm and mutters some song about taking a left and a right and going down the stairs. We rush down countless stone staircases, which, I might add, are moving. Yes, _moving_. Hopefully they don't flip upside down...

"So why exactly are we going to Slytherin Dungeon again?" Albus asks nervously.

"Who cares?" I laugh. "As long as it involves danger, I'm in."

"I'll never understand Gryffindors," Albus mutters to himself.

"In Slytherin Dungeon, there are storage rooms where absolutely no one can hear us," Rose clarifies, skipping two steps at a time to try to stay ahead of us. As far as I can tell, Rose is probably the least athletic out of the four of us. "This is top-secret, highly confidential. And I need to show you something."

"But how will us three get into the Dungeon without getting caught?" Scorpius asks skeptically.

"There will barely be anyone in the Common Room. Breakfast is still going on," Rose states, breathing heavier. "Besides, none of us are in uniform, so people won't notice. Well, Cat, I'd recommend zipping up your jacket, since your shirt basically screams, 'Hey guys, I'm a Gryffindor!'. Also, I love the purple hair, but it might make you a bit conspicuous, you know? And let's slow down a bit." Rose slows her pace.

Scorpius snorts. "Weasel, we've been going at a light jog for this whole time, how can you possibly be tired already?"

"Because, unlike you, _I_ value brains over brawn, Ferret Boy Junior," Rose retorts.

"Remember what I said about weasels and ferrets mating?" Albus teases as I burst out laughing.

There's a short pause as we come to a halt.

"Shut up Albus," Scorpius and Rose say in unison.

* * *

I gaze up at the gray stone wall, eyeing the creepy green fire coming from the torches and the portrait of the even creepier grinning serpent, basked in silvery light. So this is what the entrance to Slytherin Dungeon looks like. I've gotta say, it's a lot different from Gryffindor tower. The warm scarlet and gold is replaced by cold green and silver. To tell the truth, I really don't like it that much.

"Master Password..." Rose mumbles. "_Ingeniosi vaccas._"

The serpent turns its head, beady eyes fixated on Rose. "'Ey, it's Rose Weasley! How hath the cactus melons?"

"Huh?" I ask confusedly.

"That's Nugarum, or just Nug," Rose makes a cuckoo motion with her finger, and I nod in response. I guess Slytherin's tunnel portrait is even more insane than the Fat Lady.

"The cactus melons are great, sir!" Scorpius says, crackling up. "They're almost as spicy as the Bulgarian octopi!"

"Wait!" the serpent cries. "I'm sensing some unnatural vibes from ya. Well, the redhead is fine, but the others...especially you, brown ponytail. The two young lads' auras don't smell right, but the lass with the brown hair, her aura is making me sick."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I put on deodorant today. Would you like to check to make sure?" I respond, causing the others to crack up.

"I would love to, but no," the serpent muses. "It ain't how ya smell. I can detect vibes from the essences of peoples' souls, and your vibe...you're not cowardly enough. You're too daring, too chivalrous, too brave. But what is so different about ya three?"

We exchange amused glances and try to hold back our oncoming snickers. Way to represent the intelligence of Slytherin House, Nug.

"Well, you know what they say, ol' Nug," Rose says finally. "To mince the squid is to obliviate the tortoise."

"Indeed!" the serpent exclaims. "In ya go!"

The portrait flips open. Albus turns to Rose. "Uh...what?"

Rose shrugs. "Who knows?" We quickly crawl through the tunnel into the Common Room.

You know how I said that I didn't like the entrance to the Dungeon? Well, I like the Common Room even less. Everything about it, the spooky aqua glow, the flickering green fire, the cold stone walls, unsettles me. Maybe I just don't like Salazar Slytherin's interior decorating methods. Or maybe it reminds me too much of home.

Pfft. Home. Like the White House was ever really _home_.

"Wow, this has a nice...um...ambiance?" Albus raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips. He doesn't seem to like it here, either.

"Interesting design," Scorpius murmurs to himself, pacing through the room, observing every little detail. "The silver accents compliment the emerald color scheme well. In fact, the color scheme in general cleverly compliments the water reflecting through the windows. Some influences of Gothic architecture...yeah, this would be fun to paint. Definitely not with watercolor, but oil? Yeah, I could see that. Maybe some perspective around the base of -"

"Um, Scorpius?" Albus calls to him, following me and Rose, who is climbing into one of the many tunnels lining the walls. "You coming?"

"Sorry," Scorpius says, hurrying toward us. He climbs into the tunnel behind us.

I gaze around at the interior of the tunnel, the smooth black stone cold against my fingers. "Is whatever you're showing us at the end of this tunnel?"

"Yeah," Rose answers, crawling diligently despite being out of breath from sprinting - er, lightly jogging her way from the Great Hall. "It's not too far. The tunnel gets darker, so stay close behind me. And Scorpius, if you want to paint a picture of the Common Room at some point, I'd recommend sneaking down here at maybe three or four in the morning. Not at midnight, though, because Slytherins are night owls."

"Thanks!" Scorpius replies. "I think I might start painting it tonight. My goal is to paint or sketch every room at Hogwarts in the next seven years."

"Wow," I say. "That's a lot of paintings. Are you gonna sell them, or what?"

"Maybe," he says. "I can't show them to my parents, though. If they found out I was still making artwork, they'd kill me. So I hide all my pictures under a secret trapdoor that they don't know about."

Rose stops crawling so suddenly that my face nearly slams into her butt. "That's horrible!" she cries. "You shouldn't have to hide your talent!"

"It's fine," Scorpius replies. "I'm used to it. Like I said on the train, they don't want me to be an artist. They say it won't get me anywhere in life, and that therefore I shouldn't pursue it. So I buy my own supplies and make my art in secret, and I've been hiding all of it under the trapdoor. But when I'm eighteen and they have no authority over me anymore, I'll move out, become an artist, and sell my work."

"But it's still horrible that they don't want you to be an artist!" Rose exclaims. "Why don't they think art will get you anywhere? A lot of artists are incredibly rich!"

"I don't really know," Scorpius answers. "I think they want me to be a Quidditch star, or high up at the Ministry of Magic, or better yet the Minister of Magic."

"Well, luckily for you, that job's already gonna be taken," Rose says. "My life's goal is to be the Minister of Magic. But anyway, I just can't believe they're so horrible to you!"

"Meh, it's alright," Scorpius lies.

"No it's not," Rose replies. "Hey, we're here!"

Rose comes to a halt, and I crouch down, peering over her shoulder to see what's ahead of us. We're facing the entrance to another room, a small opening in the tunnel. Rose climbs out quickly, and I follow her, eager to see what she's so excited about.

"Wow, this is cool!" I exclaim, eyeing the spooky shadows and the barren storage units. The only light is a green glow shining from the walls. "Where are we?"

"Storage room," Rose says. "Where no one can hear us."

"Um...guys?" Albus squeaks.

"Yeah?"

"I'm kinda...I'm kinda scared. Like, of the dark."

Rose rolls her eyes. "And they wonder why you aren't in Gryffindor," she mutters.

"S'okay," Scorpius reassures him. "Everyone has their fear. For example, whenever I see Weaselbee's face, I get so scared that I nearly pee myself."

"Shut it, Ferret Boy the Second," Rose says. "Okay, everyone get comfy, because we're gonna be here for awhile."

I glance around the room until I find a few emerald green bean bags that look like they've been here since Salazar Slytherin was born. I distribute one to everyone until we're all lounging on the worn cloth, brushing off bits of dust.

"So remind me, why are we in a mysterious dark storage room in the secret tunnel network of Slytherin Dungeon?" Scorpius asks, lying down on his stomach, facing Rose.

"Because I made an important discovery last night," Rose proclaims. "But you three are the only ones who can hear it."

"Does it involve danger?" I ask.

"Yes," Rose says.

In unison, the three of us give completely divergent responses:

"Wicked!"

"I'll consider it..."

"Darn it."

Rose smirks, straightening herself up, staring intently into each of our eyes. "Okay. So last night, when I arrived here with the rest of the Slytherins in my year, I noticed the tunnels lining the walls..."

* * *

"...so now we have to find the portal indentation in each Common Room so we can become eligible for the challenge."

A few seconds of silence pass as I stare at Rose in shock.

"I don't know about you guys, but I think my brain just exploded," Albus says, amber eyes as huge as a triple-cheese Big Mac.

"There's a portal in each of our Common Rooms," Scorpius explains. "We have to find the portals, learn each of our tasks, and complete them to become eligible for an inter-House contest."

Albus nods. "Gotcha. You know, maybe we should let Scorp explain things instead of Rose."

"Yeah, that way we won't have to listen to a thousand-page novel about it," I snort.

Albus and Scorpius laugh. "Or maybe we should let Rose write her thousand-page novel about it, then let Scorpius read it, and he can sum it up in a sentence or two," Albus chuckles.

Scorpius gasps, forming his face into an exaggerated expression of shock. "Guys! Why would you put me through that kind of inhumane torture?!"

Rose raises her eyebrows, her lips curling into a smirk. "Speaking of suffering inhumane torture, Scorpius, I can see your underwear, and I'm beginning to wonder why it's purple with white peace signs."

Albus, Rose, and I start laughing hysterically. I grip the sides of my bean bag to keep from rolling off of it. "I hate to break it to you, Scorp," I gasp, clutching my side. "But last time I checked the seventies were over!"

Scorpius grins, not appearing to be offended. "I'm a hippie. Don't judge."

There's a second of silence, and we burst out laughing again. "Did you seriously just say that?" Rose shrieks. "And you wonder why the Slytherins think you're gay..."

Albus pats Scorpius's back. "No offense, man. We're just...'going with the groove'!"

Rose and I high-five him, laughing so hard that I think I might cut off the circulation in my throat.

"Whoa, whoa, I was kidding about the hippie thing!" Scorpius laughs. "Actually, for my birthday in December, Arista got me this underwear as a 'birthday present'. We only get each other presents because our parents make us, so we purposely seek out the most awful gifts we can find for each other. I shoved the underwear in the back of my drawer and I never wore it, until over the summer I ran out of clean underwear, so I had to wear this. It's actually really, really soft. So every now and then I wear it."

"Wow, great story," Rose says. "Now kindly put it in the story box, and never take it out again. Oh, and who's Arista?"

"My older sister," Scorpius replies. "The most stuck-up, conceited, cocky person I've ever met. And of course my parents say she's exactly what a Malfoy is 'supposed' to be. She's a Third Year."

"What house?" I ask.

Scorpius stretches his arms and yawns, adjusting his pants. "Think about my family. Now take a wild guess."

"Slytherin?"

"Wow, you're a quick learner," Scorpius says. "I also have a younger sister, Laverna. She's coming to Hogwarts next year."

"Should we be scared?" Albus asks, probably noticing the dread in Scorpius's voice.

Scorpius nods. "Yes. Unless you _like_ miniature con girls who lie, persuade, manipulate, cheat, and use every single dirty trick possible in order to get what they want. Oops, now we're getting _extremely_ off-topic. So about the inter-House challenge thing, are we doing it?"

"Let me think," I stop and ponder the possibility for about half a second. "Okay, I'm in."

"Same here," Rose says.

"I'm not so sure..." Albus mumbles. "This could be really dangerous."

Rose rolls her eyes. "Don't worry about it. Trust me, if this was really risky, do you think I'd be suggesting it?"

"Weasley, it _is_ really risky," Scorpius points out. "I know you know that, but you're just not admitting it. I think you want the prize more than anything because it can give you your deepest desire, which is probably either power or recognition. You're trying to convince yourself the four of us are smart and strong enough to survive it based on what Slytherin's Patronus told you. You don't want to admit that it's risky because you don't want to seem reckless, and you're not reckless, though your determination might be starting to cloud your judgement."

Rose tenses up, and I notice a flicker of fear in her eyes. "Malfoy, are you a Legilimens?"

Scorpius shrugs, cheeks flushing slightly. "I don't know. I've just always been good at reading people. But was I right?"

Rose bites her lip. "Yeah, you're right. But honestly, I think that this prize will be well worth it. Even though it's supposed to be a competition between the Houses, we can work together and split the prize. The Patronus said we could."

"Well..." Scorpius sighs. "Okay, I'll do it."

"Good," Rose grins. "Then we'd better get started. Which Common Room should we search for the portal first?

"Actually, I was hoping we could relax and explore Hogwarts today," Albus interjects. "You know, before we get all stressed out and stuff."

"Good point," Rose agrees. "Where do you guys want to go?"

"We could go sit outside somewhere," I suggest. "I have some snacks in my room that we could bring. Let's go get those and then go outside."

"Okay."

* * *

"I'm not sure if I should go in there," Rose says uneasily as we approach the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Everyone knows that I'm the traitorous Slytherin Weasley. If my cousins are in there, I'll be lion food."

"They probably won't be in there," I reassure. "Natalie told me that most of the Gryffindors spend their weekends outside. Besides, even if they are in there, we'll protect you."

Scorpius purses his lips. "Actually, they won't be much more welcoming toward me and Albus. I mean, I'm Draco Malfoy's son, and I'm guessing the Gryffindors are mad at you too, Albus?"

Albus nods glumly. "They're furious. You should have seen James' face when I got Sorted. Blimey, if looks could kill..." Albus shudders. "We need an Invisibility Cloak, or maybe some really good disguises."

"I'll go in first," I tell them. "I'll check if the coast is clear. If it is, I'll call you guys in. If not, well...run for your lives."

"Are you sure this is worth it just to get snacks?" Scorpius asks.

"I've got Oreos, Hot Tamales, and Fritos," I say. "American Muggle snacks."

"Okay, it's worth it!" Rose exclaims. "Grandpa always brings us Muggle snacks, and that stuff is _heaven_!"

"Sometimes I exchange my money for Muggle money so I can buy Muggle snacks," Scorpius says. "I have to smuggle them into my room, though, or else Arista gives me heck about it, and Laverna threatens to blackmail me using information about my snack smuggling."

"Wow. Your sisters sound almost as awful as mine." I turn to the Fat Lady. "Squabbling Squid Squibs Squander Squanto's Squash Squeakily."

"Well executed, darling!" the Fat Lady exclaims. "Come in, come in!" The portrait swings open.

Albus snorts. "Is that seriously the password to your Common Room?"

"Yeah. The Fat Lady's newest obsession is tongue twisters." I climb into the portrait hole. "I'll tell you guys 'code green' if the coast is clear, 'code red' if it's not."

As I climb out the other end, I gaze around cautiously. There's no sign of any activity except for the gentle blowing of the scarlet curtains from the breeze flowing through the open windows. "Code green!" I call.

The others climb out behind me, each staring up with mixed reactions. Rose's expression is unreadable, Albus gazes forlornly, and Scorpius's eyes sparkle with interest. "This should be fun to paint, too," he says. "Oil will work well to capture the rich shades of scarlet, and the beams of sunlight streaming out through -"

"Does anyone happen to have any migraine medicine?" Rose asks. "If Scorpius doesn't shut up, I might be needing some soon..." She sticks her tongue out at Scorpius, who swiftly yanks off her white headband and throws it across the room, grinning smugly and laughing.

"Hey!" Rose laughs. "Unnecessary headband violen-"

Scorpius swiftly pulls her to him and clamps a hand over her mouth, looking around alertly. "Everyone shush, I can hear voices."

Rose ducks away from Scorpius's hand. "Whoa, and you're Schizophrenic, too? Is there something -"

Scorpius clamps his hand over her mouth more firmly. "Seriously, there's people coming."

Sure enough, I can hear loud hooting and hollering and laughing coming from outside the portrait hole.

Albus gulps. "There's only one group of people I know that can make that much noise without even trying to..." He peers through the peep hole. "Oh crap, it's them! They just came up the stairs to the Fat Lady! Everyone, hide! There are some chairs over there where you can - OOF!"

The door to our end of the tunnel swings open and slams Albus in the face, knocking him down hard. "Guys, run!" I hiss. "They're coming!"

Before Scorpius and Albus can dive behind an armchair, the laughing pack of Weasleys piles into the room. "Oh, here's another one! So two Gryffindors and a Slytherin walk into The Three Broomsticks," James Potter tells the group. "So the first Gryffindor walks up to the bartender and - Merlin's Beard!" James, along with the others, notices us and gasps. "What in the name of Merlin's bloody trousers are you doing here?!"

"Blimey, James," Roxy Weasley exclaims. "No need to get your panties in a bunch, you know she's the American exchange - MERLIN'S BEARD!"

"Why are you in here?" James demands at Albus. "And a mini _Malfoy_! What do you think this is, a Gryffin-Huffle-Claw Friendship Party?!"

"You forgot the 'Slyther'," Albus mutters, stifling a laugh.

"James, just lay off them!" Molly says, exasperated. "Not every good person in the world is necessarily a Gryffindor. Hufflepuff is the House for _good people_!"

"Then why is he in our Common Room?" one of the other boys exclaims. "Sneaking into other Houses is not very 'good' if you ask me."

Molly shoots him a look. "You're one to talk, Fred, considering that you and James snuck into the First-Year Slytherin dorms last night and rigged -"

"SHHHHH!" Fred and James frantically whip their heads around. "Molly, at the rate we're going, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could be in here!"

"She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Scorpius pipes up.

"Shut it, little Malfoy!" James snaps. "God, you're probably worse than your sister! And She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is our traitorous cousin who seriously failed the Sorting."

"We've banned the use of her name from Gryffindor House," Fred adds. "Saying her name will result in serious and very sticky consequences."

"For goodness sake!" Molly cries. "You can't _fail_ the Sorting, and _Rose_ is not traitorous!"

"Okay, James, we need to replace her telescope with a Punching Telescope, hide a Ton-Tongue-Toffee in her drink, and maybe some Fever Fudge for good measure," Fred whispers.

Where is Rose, anyway? Somehow through this ordeal, she's vanished. That's luck for her; I only met the Weasleys yesterday, but I can tell they would have murdered her if they saw her here.

As if on cue, I notice a flash of dark red hair up to my right. I have to suppress a grin. Rose is crouched down in a window sill way up near the ceiling. How on earth did she get up there? Well, there are a bunch of portraits that she could have used as footholds, and she also could have shimmied up the huge twenty-foot-tall lamp. Either way...wow. That girl is James Bond reincarnated.

"Listen guys," I say carefully, not wanting to lose all my Gryffindor friends on my second day at Hogwarts. "We didn't mean any harm. We just wanted to come in and get -"

James scoffs. "Get where, in your dorm with Malfoy and -"

"James!" Molly scolds. "Don't be inappropriate! Really, I don't see why you're so mad at Albus and Rose!"

"Okay, that makes two Ton-Tongue-Toffees..." Fred murmurs.

Molly shoots him a glare. "James, Gryffindor is not better than all the other houses, no matter what you've grown up thinking! The fact that Rose got into Slytherin and Albus is a Hufflepuff does not make them any different than they were a minute before the Sorting! They haven't changed! They're still your family, and deep down you know that you still love them, but you're just too embarrassed about them being Sorted 'wrongly'. It's not worth being mad about, because they aren't going to switch Houses, so you might as well just accept them!"

Roxy sighs, adjusting her black studded arm bracelets. "Well, Molly does have a point. Just lay off them guys, okay?"

James scowls, narrowing his brown eyes. "No! Obviously something went wrong with them, and they're both bloody cowards!" He elbows his best friend. "Come on, Fred, let's get away from this traitor." He begins to head out through the tunnel.

"Actually, I agree with Roxy and Molly," Fred says. "Even though they aren't in Gryffindor, Rosie is still Rosie, and Albus is still the same little prat he always was. The only difference is a little green and yellow."

James gawks at the group. "Have you all gone mad?!" After another resentful glance, he turns on his heel and climbs out of the Common Room.

Rose leaps out of her hiding place and slides down the lamp post like a fire pole, landing quietly, her boots barely making a sound. "Hey guys," she says, striding toward us. "Sorry, as soon as I saw James, I knew I had to take cover."

"That was wise," Fred agrees. "Don't sweat it, guys. This is just James being James. The storm is bound to blow over within a few weeks. If he gets really crazy, just call me, and I'll try out our new Sedation Sweets collection on him."

Albus laughs. "Thanks, Fred."

"I'm still kind of nervous about James, though," Rose purses her lips. "I mean, he's taking it really seriously, while not a lot of other people are. Maybe he's embarrassed because of Alb and I. Then again, he doesn't seem like the type to be insecure. I mean, I guess he's kind of egotistical, but it's mostly pride, you know? My theory is that our divergent Sortings broke James's pride, therefore causing him to be shameful and bitter. I think he might be slightly more mad about me than he is about Albus, you know, because of the whole Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry. I think that rivalry has been rooted deep within society, so much as to -"

"Fred, do you happen to have any of those Sedation Sweets on hand?" Scorpius interjects.

All of us burst out laughing as Rose's cheeks flush as bright as her hair. "Trust me, wee Malfoy, I've had them ready ever since Rose could talk," Fred jokes. "And by the way, as far as I can tell, you don't seem nearly as bad as your sister, Sadistic-Aristic."

"Yeah, you seem a lot better," Roxy adds. "Trust me, you have no idea how brutal Arista's pranks can be."

"Trust me, I do," Scorpius says. "I've suffered eleven years of being her brother."

Fred puts his arm around Scorpius's shoulder. "See this guy?" he declares, pointing to him. "He's been through hell and back, yet he's still able to smile, and he hasn't been driven into insanity. Now that is _skill_."

Scorpius grins sheepishly. "Well, skill is a skill I've acquired, and the skill of skill has always been something I've done rather skillfully."

I crack up. "Oh my God, Scorpius..."

Rose smirks and rolls her eyes. "Very witty, Mister I'm-So-Great-Because-I'm-a-Ravenclaw. Come on, let's go get snacks. And thanks for not murdering us, cousins!"

"Anytime, guys," Fred calls as I lead the three others toward the dorms. "Anytime."

* * *

"Now that we've sneaked into Slytherin Dungeon, learned about a top-secret inter-House competition, and escaped murder a la James, maybe we can finally relax now," Albus says through a mouthful of Oreos as we stroll through the courtyard, bags of Muggle snacks piled into our arms.

The beams of sun glow through the red and gold leaves of the swaying trees, and a gentle breeze stirs up the crisp autumn air. I smile to myself. I'm walking around with some friends, doing what I feel like doing without having to sneak out...really, I could be a regular American kid. Well, apart from the whole wizard thing, but still...wow. This sounds extremely cliche, but I just feel so..._free_.

"Oi!" Albus nudges me. "What's Flitwick shouting about?" He gestures at a tiny man with a long grey beard, surrounded by a bunch of kids in our year.

"Shouting? More like squeaking," Scorpius snorts.

"Um...is that a Hobbit?" I ask. There's no way that guy is any taller than 4'0.

"No, that's Professor Flitwick," Rose replies, laughing. "Head of Ravenclaw, Charms professor. He's also the choir director. Speaking of choir, I'd better go sign up soon..."

"Let's go see what's going on over there," Albus says. We follow him over to the Hobbit - ahem, Professor.

Kids are crowded around him, receiving large pieces of parchment. "Ravenclaw class schedules," Laurel Scamander tells us as she looks over her schedule. "Oh no! I have Herbology first! The Greenhouse is loaded with Wrackspurts, and Wrackspurts are most potent in the morning. I'd better get my Spectraspecs..."

I turn to Rose. "Uh..._what_ now?"

Rose shrugs. "Must be a Ravenclaw thing."

Scorpius reaches over a few heads and grabs his schedule. We hurry away to avoid getting trampled by the excited Ravenclaws. "On Mondays I have Potions first with Slytherin, Defense against the Dark Arts with Slytherin," he reads as we plop down on a concrete ledge in the courtyard. "Then break, Herbology with Hufflepuff, lunch, break, Charms with Slytherin, Transfiguration with Gryffindor, and then at midnight I have Astronomy with Slytherin." Scorpius grins at Rose. "Looks like I'm going to have some serious Slytherin overload."

Albus nudges my side. "Bet Scorp's pretty happy about that," he whispers, and I stifle a snort. Rose turns beet red, though Scorpius doesn't seem to have heard him.

"First Year Slytherins!" I hear someone call. "Slytherin schedules over here!"

I turn to find Professor Nivalis holding up a stack of parchment, while Slytherins begin to flock over to her. "Might as well get mine," Rose says. She runs over to the honey-haired professor.

After Rose receives her schedule, Professors Longbottom and Macmillan hand out mine and Albus's schedules. We lounge on the concrete ledge, reading off our schedules.

"Let's see," I murmur, smoothing out the shining Gryffindor seal at the top of the page. "Monday...Potions with Hufflepuff, Charms with the 'Puffs, History of Magic with Slytherin, Defense Against the Dark Arts with 'Puffs, Transfiguration with Ravenclaw, and nothing midnight until tomorrow..."

"Looks like we're stuck together for three-fifths of our classes on Monday," Albus comments happily.

"What's nice is that either way, we'll always have one of us four in our classes," Rose says. "Scorp, pass me a Frito, will you? Man, those things are _scrumptious_."

Scorpius and Albus snicker. "Scrumptious," Scorpius laughs. "That's so stupid!"

Rose rolls her eyes. "Says the guy who doesn't have enough intelligence to know what 'scrumptious' even means."

I await Scorpius's witty retort, but his mind is obviously elsewhere. He's staring intently toward the grassy meadow in front of us, where a group of figures is marching toward us. "Look who decided to drop by," he muses.

I crane my neck and peer ahead to see what he's looking at. A girl is leading a pack of five or six other boys and girls, her long blonde hair glowing in the sunlight. She's drop-dead gorgeous, but an air of fierceness surrounds her. The way the group follows and fawns over her causes a feeling of suspicion to arise in me. I've been around snobs long enough to know one when I see one.

As she comes closer, I begin to see that she resembles Scorpius a lot. She has the same pointed chin, the same silver eyes, the same tall, muscular build.

"That's Arista, isn't it?" Rose says quietly, narrowing her eyes. "I can already tell that I don't like her."

"Wise judgement," Scorpius replies. "Brace yourselves. She's on the prowl."

The laughing group finally reaches us. Arista smirks slightly, resembling Scorpius so much that it's scary. However, she doesn't have that same kind look that Scorp does. There's something dark about her, and two words flash through my brain: _DON'T TRUST_.

Arista steps forward, smirking deviously. "Well, well, well," she says with evident cockiness. "Look what we have here. It's the Retarded Scorpion," her gaze lingers on Scorpius, who shoots back a glare filled with hatred. Arista turns to Albus, and her eyes widen viciously. "Oh, and the Nutcracker! Quite an impressive feat you pulled getting onto the train yesterday." The group bursts out laughing, and Arista's smirk grows more prominent. I grip the end of my shirt, teeth clenched. _Don't blow up Cat, control your anger, don't explode, that's just what she wants to happen..._

She paces to the left. "And - Oh, look here!" Arista surveys Rose, seeming to judge every detail. "Frizzy red hair, old green sweater, pitiful demeanor...a Weasley!" Arista's head whips toward Scorpius. "Little brother, I always knew you didn't come out right, but I never imagined you would sink this low. Associating with blood traitors...tut, tut." Arista clucks her tongue as the group snickers. It takes all my willpower not to tackle that girl.

Scorpius's eyes flare with rage. "Don't you dare talk about my friends that way, you sick twisted prat!" he growls.

"Down, boy!" Arista coos mockingly. "We don't want the little Scorpion to get his claws in a clamp. Now then, let's discuss the Weasley some more...hm, you must be so _sad_ that you aren't in Gryffindor. Admit it, you're longing to be with your fellow idiots. Surely, Slytherin House is far too noble for such poor blood purity."

Rage courses through my veins suddenly. It's almost like I was on the last straw, and Arista has just snapped it. I can tolerate being insulted, but when you insult my _friends_...that tears it. I don't care that the girl is a freaking Third Year. I jump forward and rear back my fist, relishing the sight of Arista's eyes widening with surprise. She'll pay for this -

Before I can complete my punch, I feel Albus and Scorpius wrap their arms around my waist from behind, pulling me back. With all my might, I try to break free of the restraining arms, but to no avail. "Please, Cat, she's not worth it!" I hear Albus's voice cry. "It'll only get us into trouble, and she's just trying to provoke us!"

I freeze up for a moment, my head clearing. Finally, I slowly pull myself back onto the ledge, staring into Arista's cold silver eyes with as much fire and hatred as I can muster. Albus is right; Arista isn't worth it, and attacking her would earn me a detention.

After recovering from shock, the group of Slytherins manages to produce a forced laugh, but I can tell they're getting nervous. In general, I'm a friendly person, but I know that when I'm angry, I can be downright _scary._

"Aw, is little Kitty-Cat having a hissy fit?" Arista purrs. Yes, purrs. Like she's one to call someone a Kitty-Cat. And speaking of that, I don't even want to know how she's already found out my name... "No matter. I'll let that one slide. Maybe you're just cranky because Filch forgot to empty your litter box."

The pack begins to cackle, and though I want to pounce on her again, I hold my ground. Maybe that doesn't sound like much of a heroic feat, but trust me, with someone as hotheaded as I am, it's a freaking miracle.

Rose raises her eyebrows. "Well why should you be cranky, then? Someone's obviously remembered to empty your _head_!"

Arista turns toward her, stepping forward with a menacing glare. She leans in so close to Rose that they're practically nose-to-nose, even though Rose is much shorter. "I don't think you know how it works around here, Weasley," Arista says ominously. Darkness seems to cast an evil-looking shadow on her face. "I don't know how it is with the Gryffindorks, and I don't care. But in order to get by in Slytherin, you have to be prestigious, respected, influential, and high up on the social ladder. And I could tell from the very moment you strutted away from the filty Sorting Hat that you aren't going to do well in Slytherin. Why, you ask?" Arista leans in even closer to Rose, her eyes narrowing to slits. "Because daughters of Mudbloods don't do well anywhere."

Scorpius leaps up, snatching his wand out of his pocket and pointing it at his sister's chest, seething with rage, his eyes glowing like storm clouds. "Get away from her, you stuck-up, arrogant b-"

"It's okay, Scorp," Rose says calmly, placing her hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eye for a few seconds. I can practically see the storm melt away from Scorpius's eyes. She steps slowly toward Arista and her gang, holding her head high, exuberating an air of power. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Malfoy, even though I'm thoroughly enjoying the pleasure of your company, I'm afraid you've made an erroneous claim." Rose cocks her head, her eyes icy and cold, though she remains mockingly diplomatic and calm. "You see, you implied earlier that Scorpius's morals have sunk extremely low. Am I right?"

Arista rolls her eyes cockily, though I can tell Rose has sort of caught her off guard. "Yeah, you dimwitted -"

"I'll assume that that's affirmative," Rose continues. "Moving on, you have stated that Scorpius's morals have sunk because he associates with, quote on quote, 'Blood traitors' like me. Well, I hate to break it to you, but how high do you think your morals are, then? Bossing people around, using derogatory words such as 'Mudblood', acting as if you're above society because of your blood status...based on these allegations, it would be hypocrisy to tell Scorpius, whose morals and ethics highly exceed yours, that he has sunken low."

Arista and her posse stand still, frozen in shock. One of the guys' mouth is hanging wide open, so that he resembles a huge, drooping Basset Hound. I want more than anything to snap my fingers in Arista's face and loudly proclaim with as much sass as possible, "You just got buuuurned!"

So I do. And the reaction is downright hilarious.

Arista's eyes widen furiously, aimed at both Rose and me. Her face screws up as if she's about to explode. Heh. That would be a nice image. I swear that I can see ice forming in her steely eyes. Sure, it might sound kind of intimidating, but trust me, it's so funny when cocky people lose their pride.

"That's right. You just got burned by a friend of a daughter of a 'Mudblood'," Rose adds smugly.

"You'll pay for this Weasley," Arista hisses. Before my brain can process what's happening, Arista tackles Rose to the ground, and Rose emits a loud, high-pitched scream. Every ounce of rage I had bottled up inside of me from before explodes right then. I let out a roar and throw myself onto Arista, trying my hardest to pry her off Rose. Arista yelps, whirls around, and pins me to the ground with a lightning-fast move. A dull pain resounds in the back of my skull as it thumps onto the ground. This girl is _much_ stronger than I thought she would be. With one backbreaking move, I push Arista off and slap her in the face with all my might. And from there, it's all a blur, a blur of fury, punching, shoving, intense nail-scratching and relentless hair-pulling. I spot a flash of blue and bronze, and I see that Scorpius has joined the brawl too, shielding Rose from Arista's blows with his body. I can just make out the sight of tons of people surrounding us, and shouts ring in my ears. "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" "COME ON, CAT!" "ARISTA! YOU GOT THIS!" "LOOK OUT, MALFOY!" "ROSE! QUICK, DODGE!"

But my mind doesn't process any of that. I'm focused on one thing, one goal: To get Arista off of Rose. I feel a hot trickle of blood running down my cheek from where Arista scratched it, and my ears begin to ring. _Stay focused, stay focused_!

In a flash of a second, I meet Arista's cat-like eyes, and then all I can feel is pain, numb pain. The noises around me begin to fade, and I try to sit up, but I can't. My muscles feel dragged down as if weights are tied to them. A light begins to grow in front of my eyes, and I can register a shout:

"_Protego Maxima_!"

And then everything goes black.

* * *

"Is she still unconscious?"

"Hold on, let me check -"

"Fred, you idiot! Don't slap her!"

"Fine, then. Go ahead and reject my generous helpfulness."

"Oi! Shut up, she's waking up!"

My eyes flutter open, and a haze appears on front of my face. Bright light burns my vision, making my forehead pound. A small moan escapes my lips. Where the heck am I?

My vision begins to clear, and I can just make out faces hovering over me, sighing and smiling with relief. "Alleluia, it's alive!" one of them exclaims.

"I'm not an it," I mumble, my head dizzy and light. I know the faces in front of me; I've seen them a zillion times, yet I can't quite put my finger on who they are. It's like I know who they are, but I don't...gah. I've never felt like this before.

Am I going insane?

"No, you aren't, dear," a woman's voice laughs. That's when I realized I asked that question out loud. "Just a minor concussion, that's all. Grade I, maybe a low Grade II."

My heart sinks. Concussion...I know what that is, and it's something bad, but I can't remember...

"You really dominated Malfoy," one of the girls' faces - Moxy? Foxy? Roxo?- says, grinning. "After you got knocked out, Nivalis came over, and she was all, 'Protego Maxima!', and then Malfoy was like 'Aaaaah!' and she sprinted away, and then everyone was cheering. It was the _best._"

Suddenly, everything that happened comes flooding back to me - Arista calling Rose a Mudblood, the argument, the fight, punching and getting punched...

How could I have been so _stupid_? Arista was just trying to provoke me, and guess what? It worked. Being her usual hotheaded, impulsive self, Cat just _has_ to freak out and go full feline on some stuck-up Slytherin.

I try to say "I shouldn't have attacked her", but it comes out more like "Muhhhhhhh."

"We're going to murder Arista," one of the other faces - Aquarius...Libra...Scorpio...Scorpius! - says, rage and pain burning in his eyes. "And avenge you and Rose. You got a minor concussion, but Rose, she got pummeled. But if it weren't for you defending her, Rose could have been hurt even worse. You might have saved her life."

I raise an eyebrow. "Save huh life?" I slur, with _amazing_ diction, as you can tell.

"Arista is a master fighter," Scorpius explains. "She was trained by the very best Wizarding Martial Arts instructor in Europe. The only reason why she didn't pull out her wand is that she knew that if she used magic against you, she never would be able to blame it on you, because First Years don't know how to attack with spells."

"That was so great of you to defend Rose," Albert...no, Albus adds sincerely. "Standing up for a friend...that's the best thing you can do. I mean, that is some real Gryffindority."

"Gryffindority," James snickers.

That's when I remember that it wasn't me who attacked Arista...it was Arista who attacked Rose, and then I counterattacked Arista. Well, that makes me feel somewhat better.

My head begins to clear, though I still feel very weak.

"It's no big deal," I tell Albus, finally able to speak clearly. "I mean, a friend was in danger, so what else would someone do?"

"Run for it, like Malfoy did," Lucy says. "That girl has to be the biggest coward I've ever met."

"And Cat, it _is_ a big deal," Dominique states. "It's all people are talking about."

"But it's only been what, ten minutes?" I ask, confused.

James laughs. "More like ten hours. You were only knocked out for five minutes, but they gave you sleeping potion so you could rest and heal from the injuries. And Dominique's right - you're a _celebrity! _I'm serious, you were amazing out there. No other girl I know is able to give Malfoy a run for her money like you did."

I notice Albus standing nearby, struggling to hold a huge pile of candy and cards. "What's that stuff?" I ask.

"These," Albus drops the massive pile on the large table nearby, unable to bear the weight any longer. "Are Get-Well presents that people wanted us to deliver to you. I swear, you have enough chocolate frogs in that pile to eat for dinner every day for two weeks! Mind if I have one?"

"Yeah, go ahead." Suddenly, an urgent thought comes into my mind. "Wait, how's Rose?"

Scorpius stares at the floor, biting his lip.

"Nasty concussion," Natalie Andrews answers. "And a sprained ankle, some nasty bruises, deep scratches from Malfoy's nails, and a really painful-looking busted lip.

I let out a gasp. I failed. I failed to protect Rose, and now she's lying somewhere with a zillion injuries that might not have been there if I protected her better. "Will she be okay?" I ask weakly.

"'Okay'? What kind of question is that?" James laughs. "Yeah, she'll be fine! I mean, _Madam Pomfrey _is taking care of her."

I don't really know who that is, but James's lighthearted tone of voice reassures me. "How long until she'll be up again?"

"Well, let's see..." a lady in a nurses' robes, probably Madam Pomfrey, muses. "It's Saturday evening, so if I stir up some Concussion Concoction and mend her ankle...maybe around tomorrow afternoon at the latest. You'll be all better after a nice night of rest. Here, drink this," she hands me a glass of sparkling purple liquid. "When you do, your concussion symptoms will be gone within five minutes."

Wow. The wonders of magic. I take the glass and tilt it into my mouth, only to spit it back out again. I cringe and gag slightly. That has to be the worst stuff I've ever tasted.

"Well, what did you expect, pumpkin juice?" Madam Pomfrey says. "Try again."

Shuddering, I tilt my head back, close my eyes, and force the disgusting stuff down. Then I grab the glass of water on the table next to me and chug it down without hesitation until the awful taste in my mouth goes away.

My head clears, and every single face and thing in the room appears with normal clarity again. I no longer feel dizzy and lightheaded. "I think I'm actually ready to go now -"

The group of people around me laughs. "Might not be a good idea," Allie giggles. "Have you seen your face?"

I grin. "Fortunately not. Do I look more like a mountain troll or an ogre?"

"Worse," Fred shudders. "You look like Malfoy."

"Oi!"

"Not you, Scorp."

"Your face injuries are still healing," Madam Pomfrey explains. "Hold on, I've got to go register your name in the Hospital Wing record book, Miss...Weasley?"

The group bursts out laughing. "It's Riddley," I clarify as she reaches for a large black book. "Do I really look that Weasley-ish?"

Madam Pomfrey shrugs. "Well, you have red hair."

I cock my head confusedly. "Um, no I - oh, wait, yeah I do." As I turn my head, I find that I must have subconsciously turned my hair red. That happens sometimes. Every now and then my hair color will just change of its own accord.

Madam Pomfrey raises an eyebrow. "Wasn't it brown and red before? Or maybe it's just me getting old and imagining things..."

"I'm a partial Metamorphagus," I tell her. "But I can only control my hair. Like this..." I morph my hair into neon turquoise while everyone watches, amazed even though they know I can change my hair. I change it back to my signature dark brown with bright red streaks.

Madam Pomfrey nods, seeming a bit perplexed. "You can manipulate your hair that well? That's very rare, you know. Most Metamorphagi can only change their hair to about three or four different colors. I've only known one other, Nymphadora Tonks, who can control her hair as well as you can."

"Thanks," I say. Suddenly, exhaustion overwhelms me, and I let out a deep yawn. "Wow. I'm tired."

"It's probably the Concussion Concoction," Madam Pomfrey replies. She turns to the group surrounding me. "She needs to rest now. Out, all of you."

"See you, Cat!"

"Get well!"

"Try not to go insane!"

"Bye!"

The group of my friends reluctantly leaves, but when Madam Pomfrey leaves to go ask Professor Nivalis for a few potions, four heads pop out from behind a couch, making me basically jump thirty feet into the air. "Like we're leaving," Scorpius scoffs.

"Clever," I laugh. Scorpius, Albus, Fred, and James climb out from behind the couch. Albus sits on the side of my bed, James plops down on the end, and Fred and Scorpius sit on the round table.

James clears his throat, straightening up with purpose. "So we've tried our best to tolerate Malfoy -"

"What?"

James rolls his eyes. "I'm talking about your sister, Scorpius. Anyway, we've put up with her ever since we came to this school, but there is no way we're letting her get away with this."

"But hasn't she been suspended or expelled?" I ask.

Scorpius sighs. "Unfortunately not. My dad is on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. McGonagall will fight to reveal the truth, but a student can only be expelled if the Board of Governors votes them to be expelled. My dad will probably persuade them not to vote for her expulsion. Besides, no one outside of Hogwarts will ever believe that the brilliant angel Arista Malfoy viciously attacked someone."

I gasp. "That sucks!"

"No dip, Sherlock," James replies in that super polite way of his. "So Malfoy is going to get out of this without punishment -"

"Unless _we_ punish her -" Fred cuts in.

"Which is exactly what we came here to talk to you about," Albus says. "Sure, this could be considered morally wrong, but Arista needs to learn her lesson."

"So...what are you saying?" I say slowly.

Scorpius's eyes darken in an evil way that makes him resemble his sister even more than he already does. "Revenge," he says. "That's what we're saying."

I nod, a grin spreading across my face. "Well, I like it. Rose needs to be avenged."

"This is for you, too," Fred points out. "A tip from a wise old Gryffindor to a young lioness: We _never_ go down without a fight."

"Malfoy will rue the day she laid her filthy hands on my friends," James growls.

"So you're not mad at Rose anymore?" I ask.

James seems surprised. "What? Of course not! I've gotten over that by now."

Fred grins. "Told you so," he mouths at me.

"We'll need to make sure the revenge -" Albus nearly chokes on the word. "Is fair. Not too major, not too small."

Scorpius rolls his eyes. "Albus, this is not the time for Hufflepuffery! As much as I hate saying this, we all need to unleash our inner Slytherin."

"Amen," I agree. "So when do we start plotting our revenge?"

James thinks for a moment. "The secret conference room in Gryffindor Tower. We meet at noon tomorrow. Bring the whole Weasley-Potter pack, including Rose. Oh, and don't forget snacks. Deal?"

I mull over how morally incorrect revenge is and how awful of a person I'm being, and then I turn my head back toward the guys. "Deal," I confirm, grinning and with no regret at all. "Let's do it."


	4. Y1: The Wonderful Art of Revenge

**A/N: Welcome back to TCPAS!**

**Remember how I said last chapter that if you reviewed that chapter between that update and this update, I'd review one of your stories? I didn't get around to reviewing all of them, so if I didn't review yours and you reviewed last chapter, shoot me a PM, and I'll review your story as soon as I can!**

**Enjoy the chapter! I love you all!**

**-Marina**

* * *

I yawn and stretch my arms, my legs asleep from being propped up on the side table all night. My neck is slightly stiff as I roll my neck. Energy is rushing through me, even though I didn't get a wink of sleep last night. Not because it's hard to fall asleep in a hard chair in the Hospital Wing, but because thoughts wouldn't stop racing through my head, thoughts about revenge, thoughts about hatred, thoughts about my disgrace of a sister, thoughts about Rose.

I gaze at Rose, who is still sound asleep, her wavy auburn hair sprawled across the pillows. Her pale face is peaceful and relaxed. A smattering of freckles dots her nose and upper cheeks. I've always liked freckles. Of course Arista gives heck to anyone who has them, because apparently "freckles are just as bad as pimples. Pretty much everyone Irish has them, including those Weasley idiots. As if being Irish wasn't bad enough..."

The sound of Arista's voice, that slippery, slimy, smooth tone of hers, makes me boil with rage. That sick, twisted, horrible piece of scum! And to think she has the nerve to hurt my friends like that! She'll pay for that stunt, she'll pay for hurting Cat, for hurting_ Rose_...

It amazes me how fierce Rose was yesterday during the fight. Yes, I could tell she was scared when Arista pounced on her, but she held her own. That's one of the things I love about Rose. She's on the shorter side, pale, and not very muscular, but she's a force to be reckoned with. I have no idea how she was able to keep calm when Arista was saying all those terrible things to her. Even Arista was taken aback when Rose took her insults and fired them right back at her. I don't know what it is about Rose, but she has an air of authority. She's not all wimpy and emotional, but at the same time she's not some kind of sociopath. She's strong and resilient, and I think that's a great quality.

I'm very grateful to Cat for defending Rose. That definitely took some guts, because Arista can be extremely intimidating. Cat has a degree of courage that you don't see very often.

I read the large grandfather clock on the opposite wall. It's nine o' clock. About three hours ago, Cat practically bounced out of bed, _completely_ recovered. It's amazing what Concussion Concoction can do. Maybe I should have sat by her bed too at some point, but Madam Pomfrey said, "You can only sit by one bed, for goodness sake! You can't just move back and forth between beds every two hours!" Besides, Rose's injuries were much more severe. They had to give her tons of weird potions in her sleep, and some purple concoction that smelled really bad.

Even though Rose was obviously safe, I still felt the need to stay near her, to protect her in case Arista came again. That would obviously never happen because it's the hospital wing, but I didn't feel safe leaving her.

Rose begins to stir, and she brushes a strand of red hair off her forehead. Finally, her eyes, flutter open, bright blue and healthy. She turns toward me, jerking with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

A smile spreads across my face. "Nice to see you, too."

Rose raises her eyebrows. "Were you sitting there all night?"

"Well...yeah."

Rose laughs. "How come? That chair doesn't look too comfortable."

"Um, I dunno..." I reply. I'm just so good at using my words.

If I tell her that I felt scared to leave her, she would think I'm crazy! I mean, why would I be scared to leave her? She's perfectly safe in the Hospital Wing.

She smiles, blushing slightly. "Well, thanks, Scorp."

I return her smile. "No problem. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she says. "My arm is a little sore, but other than that, I'm okay. But I'm kind of confused. What happened yesterday after the fight?"

"Well, at the very end, Arista -" I choke on the name. "Arista had you pinned down, and Cat was trying to get her off you. Then she got Cat in a headlock, and she slammed her head on to the ground."

Rose's bright blue eyes widen, and she sits up quickly. "What? Is she okay?!"

"Cat's fine. She got a minor concussion, but Madam Pomfrey gave her Concussion Concoction, and she's all better now. Anyway, Cat got knocked out, and Arista rounded on you. She pinned your arm behind your back and punched you really hard in the back of your head, but you kicked her in the face. Then she literally pounced on you, and your head also slammed against the ground, and that's when you got knocked out. Professor Nivalis came over and cast a spell to get Arista off you. Then all three of you were taken to the Hospital Wing. Arista has a broken arm."

I can hardly suppress a grin as I say that Arista broke her arm. Serves her right.

Rose's face pales. "Wait...am I in trouble?"

"I doubt it," I reassure her. "You and Cat are celebrities. Roxy said that there was a mountain of Get Well presents being sent to the Slytherin Common Room. You two are heroes!"

Rose seems surprised. "Really? Wait, but why me?"

"Because you took Arista's sass and threw it right back in her face!" I laugh. "I don't think you realize how awesome you were. You stood up to Arista, and trust me, _nobody_ stands up to Arista. Everyone's talking about it!"

"Cool," Rose replies.

"Oh, and do you want to meet up with Cat and Albus to get some food?" I ask. "You missed breakfast, but we can probably get some stuff at the kitchens."

"Sounds awesome," Rose says. "And Scorpius, I...I really appreciate you standing up for me when Arista was being a jerk."

I feel my cheeks flush. "Well, what's a best friend for, eh?"

* * *

"It was brilliant!" Albus exclaims through a mouthful of muffin as we stroll through the courtyard. "Honestly, you two should be very proud of yourselves. You guys stood up for each other even against Arista! And you were great, Scorp! You were defending Rose like a boss!"

My cheeks start flushing again. "Albus, you helped too, you know! And I didn't even do that much, it was mostly you three -"

"Oh, shut up, Scorp!" Rose laughs. "You're so humble!"

My face reddens about three shades. "No I'm not, I mean -"

"See? He won't confess to doing anything heroic!" a currently dirty-blonde Cat points out. "Watch this! Hey Scorpius, are you good at painting?"

"Well, I guess I'm okay. I mean I'm not _amazing_, but I guess I don't suck at it-"

The others burst out laughing. "Scorp, you really need to stop being so humble," Cat says.

"But I'm not _that_ humble -"

Cat slaps her forehead. "Lord help us..."

"I don't think someone can be _too_ humble," Albus comments. "I mean, it's much better than being arrogant."

"You're such a Hufflepuff," Cat laughs, ruffling his hair like he's a dog. Albus grins sheepishly.

We reach one of the large oaks on the lawn, the kind with lots of thick branches that are good for climbing. Cat, Albus, and I climb up and stretch out on the thick branches, and I help Rose up, because her shoulder is still a bit sore.

"What time is it?" Albus asks me.

I check my watch. "Eleven."

"Okay," Albus says. "By the way, Rose, the Weasley-Potter clan is meeting in Gryffindor Tower at noon to plot revenge."

"Revenge?" Rose asks. "Oh, you mean for the incident yesterday." Her eyes brighten, and her lips curl into a smirk. "I like the sound of that. But isn't Arista getting in trouble enough revenge already?"

"That's the thing," I reply. "Arista deserves to get in trouble, but my father is definitely going to get involved. And everyone outside Hogwarts believes that she is a perfect little angel, and that she would _never_ attack two girls viciously. I hate to say it, but Arista might come out of this unscathed. And that is exactly what we don't want to happen. She hasn't even got detention!"

"I like revenge..." Rose muses. "I like revenge a _lot_."

"Well, you seem like you'd be good at revenge," I say. "After all, there's a reason you were Sorted into Slytherin."

"Ain't that the truth," Albus snorts.

Rose reaches up to his branch and whacks him on the arm. "So we meet at noon? Got it. Meanwhile, we need to discuss the Inter-House Challenge."

The Inter-House Challenge? I completely forgot about that during this whole ordeal. "We're all still doing it, right?"

"Of course!" Cat replies. "I can't wait to start. It's gonna be so awesome!"

"So we still have to find the other three portals so we can all become eligible," Albus says. "And Rose still has to carry out her task, and we haven't even learned _our_ tasks yet! What's your task again? Something about mermaids?"

"I have to go visit the Doineann merfolk colony in the Black Lake, and I have to steal their Storm Gem, which apparently gives them power over the other clans of Merfolk," Rose says, not sounding too happy about it.

"That shouldn't be too hard," Albus comments nonchalantly.

"Oh, it's a walk in the park," Rose grumbles. "It could not get any easier except for the fact that the Doineann are the most vicious of the Merfolk clans, they guard the Storm Gem with maximum security, they are willing to skewer any human being without a second thought, and there is a very good chance that I could die while carrying out the task. Other than that, _it's a breeze!_"

"Sheesh, Rosie," Albus raises up his hands. "Why the sudden outburst of rage?"

"Sorry," Rose mutters. "Look, I'm kind of stressed about this. It's going to take a lot of brainpower to figure out how I'm going to do this."

"We can worry about that later," Cat says. "I think our first priority is to find all the portals and receive all our tasks."

"Good point," Rose admits. "Tomorrow after classes, do you want to go to one of the Common Rooms and look for another portal?"

"Sure," I say. "How 'bout Ravenclaw Tower? Let's hold off on Gryffindor Tower for awhile."

"Amen," says Albus. "Ravenclaw Tower it is."

We spend the next half hour discussing classes, professors, and things like that. At some point we land on the topic of Quidditch.

"Are you trying out?" Albus asks Cat. "This is the first time they're letting in First Years officially. My dad played on the Gryffindor team when he was a First Year, but he was an exception."

"I'll give it a go," Cat says. "It's gonna be hard, since I'm a First Year, but I've had so much practice over the years that I think I'll have a shot."

"I think so, too," Albus replies. "How 'bout you, Scorp?"

"Definitely not," I laugh. "I'm horrible at Quidditch!"

"But you're a Malf-"

"I know, I know," I roll my eyes. Really? I had _no_ idea. "My dad was a Quidditch star, blah, blah, blah. I've just never been that good at it."

"There he goes again, Mr. Humblepants," Cat snorts. "Scorp, you could definitely pull off Quidditch!"

"No, I mean it," I say. "I've never been good at Quidditch. I can fly very fast on a broom, and I have good control, but I can't do anything with a Quaffle or a Snitch or a Bludger."

"Oh, I'm sure Albus will train you up. Albus is amazing at Quidditch," Rose says. "He's definitely gonna make the team. If I make the team, the Slytherin-Hufflepuff matches are going to be far more violent than usual."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Back up the truck!" Albus's eyes widen. "You're trying out for Quidditch?"

Rose's cheeks flush with that signature Weasley blush. "Yes. Is something wrong with that?"

Albus purses his lips, choosing his words carefully. "Well, it's just...Quidditch is a rough sport. I mean, you're a good Keeper and everything, but you're so small, and I don't know if you could stand a chance against a bunch of huge Seventh Year guys." He winces as if expecting a slap from Rose.

Rose narrows her eyes. "Are you saying I'm not able to hold my own?"

Albus's eyes widen, and he immediately regrets his words. "I-I don't mean it like that, it's just that...well, you're really good, but you don't have quite the Quidditch build. You're more short and stout, and I'm afraid that you would get knocked off your broom or something..."

"Oh, so I'm too _fat_ to play Quidditch?" Rose snaps, her voice full of venom.

Albus looks ready to jump out of the tree. "What? No! I'm just saying -"

"Yeah, I get that I'm a little on the stockier side, you don't have to remind me!" Rose's gaze pierces him like ice. "And who made you the expert on Quidditch, anyway? You can't just _decide_ that I'm not fit to play! Just because I'm not shaped like a stick doesn't mean I can't be on the team! Besides, when you play Quidditch it's _good_ to be larger, that way you don't get knocked off your broom!"

"Rose, I know that you have the skills to be on the team," Albus says pleadingly. "It's just that you're so short, and -"

"That's not what you're worried about," I cut in, carefully observing Albus's face. "You're just worried that she's going to get hurt, and you're using her shape and size as an excuse to be worried. I think you're just worried about her because you want to protect her, not because you underestimate her."

With that, three heads swivel toward me.

"How...how did you know that?" Albus asks slowly. "That's exactly how I feel. Like, _exactly_."

I shrug. "I don't know. I guess it's just something about your face."

I've always been pretty good at reading people. I mean, I don't think I can actually read their minds or anything, but I can usually tell how they're feeling, or whether they're lying, or what they're _really_ thinking. It's not that big of a deal, to be honest, but judging by the expression on everyone's faces, not everyone can read a person's thoughts quite as well as I can.

Rose narrows her eyes, scrutinizing me curiously. "Strange," she states finally. "Very strange. But Albus, you don't need to protect me! I'm going to try out for the team no matter what, and there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop me!"

"There's a Slytherin for ya," Cat mutters.

"Ain't that the truth," I snort.

Albus thinks for a second. "You're right, Rosie. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just being overprotective." He doesn't seem fully sincere, though. I can tell he's probably going to continue worrying about her.

Rose purses her lips, thinking for a moment. "It's alright," she says finally, though obviously still a bit annoyed. "I'm extremely excited for tryouts. If I make it...well, no Weasley has ever played on the Slytherin team before -"

"And we hope to keep it that way."

My head whips around to the source of the voice, and I find that a dark-haired girl with far too much makeup is standing below the tree, accompanied by a tall, muscular brunette, a guy with tan skin and a Bieber hairdo (or rather, a hair-don't), and a short girl with two long blonde pigtails.

"Ah, Melinda," Rose says in the same calm, mocking tone she used with Arista yesterday. "Always a pleasure. Guys, I'd like you to meet my dear friend Melinda Zabini."

The tension in the air is so thick that I can cut it with a knife.

Rose told me about Zabini, and I've heard loads about her from my Ravenclaw roommates. Stuck-up, snooty, prissy, thickheaded - she's like a carbon copy of my older sister.

"Nice to meet you!" I exclaim enthusiastically. "I hear you're quite the charmer."

Zabini scowls. "Oh, you must be the Malfoy. Now tell me, why is it that you've gotten yourself Sorted into such a pathetic little House?"

The kids behind her laugh. "Did you purposely intend to disgrace your family name?" asks the short blonde girl, smirking evilly. "Or did you come to realize that when it comes to cunning, ambition, and glory, you just don't make the cut?"

Rose's eyes widen. "M-Meredith?"

Meredith snickers. "Why, yes, I am 'M-m-m-meredith'." She whimpers while saying her name, obviously mocking Rose. The kids laugh again.

"So how come you've decided to grace us with your presence, dear Melinda?" Rose asks coolly. "Shouldn't you be healing your black eye? Oh wait, I'm sorry - that's not a black eye, it's your talented make-up artistry. Oh, I see you were going for the raccoon look! Yes, it suits you _very_ well."

Zabini bites her lip, offended but covering it up very well. "This look is currently in Vogue, for your information. But of course you wouldn't know about that. Why would you read a magazine that's full of clothes that your family can't afford?"

"Oooh!" the trio around her laughs. I roll my eyes. Those people can't recognize a good comeback if it ran up to them and punched them in the face.

"Oh, you read Vogue, too?" Rose smiles condescendingly at her. "Or perhaps you only look at the pictures. I think Vogue might be a little too advanced for your reading level. _The Cat in the Hat_ might be a little more suitable for your cognitive abilities."

"And at least Rose has cognitive abilities in the first place," I add.

Zabini cocks her head to the side. "What the heck does that even mean?"

I snort. "My point exactly."

"Well no one cares about your goganive fabilimies!" the guy spits.

"Not even close, Noah," Rose mutters.

"What we - and the rest of the world - care about is Quidditch," the tall brunette states proudly. "And who's going to be on this year's team. And who _isn't_ going to be on this year's team. And guess who isn't?"

"Hold on, Selena, let me think..." Rose ponders. "Does it start with a 'M' and end with a 'elinda Zabini'?"

Selena Flint scowls. "No, stupid. _You_. Because, you see, guess who's trying out for Beater? _Me_."

"That doesn't concern me," Rose replies. "I'm not trying out for Beater."

"Exactly," Melinda says. "Because you know who's gonna be the next Slytherin _Keeper_? Go ahead, guess."

"Let's see..." Cat says. "Um, not you?"

"No, you idiot!" Melinda spits, exasperated. "_Me_! _I'm_ going to be the next Keeper!"

"Mmhmm," Cat snorts. "Good luck with that one."

Melinda glares up at Rose. "You're going to be sorry you even considered trying out for Keeper."

And with that, she turns on the heel of her stiletto (who wears stilettos when they're eleven?!) and struts away ominously, followed by Noah, Meredith, and Selena.

"Wow..." Rose watches as they saunter into the castle. "The three of them were actually really nice at the feast. Especially Meredith. I wonder what happened..."

"It's amazing what Slytherins can do to twist the minds of even the most innocent people," I say. "Trust me, I would know."

"Am I as horrible as them?" Rose asks.

"Nope," I reply. "You're as nice as Slytherins come, actually."

"Don't worry about them, Rose," Cat says. "They're jerks, and Melinda probably sucks at Quidditch. I can just tell by the way she looks and moves."

"Yeah," Albus agrees. "Terrible Quidditch build. Not muscular at all. She might seem sleek, but she actually moves very clumsily."

"Oh, I know I shouldn't listen to her," Rose leans back on her branch. "It's just...the night of the feast, I kind of got all the Slytherins in my year to turn against Melinda. She was being a jerk, so I just made some jokes and stuff, and it seemed like everyone else was on my side. Noah was just a guy obsessed with Yo Mama jokes, Selena was a die-hard Quidditch fan but still pretty nice, and Meredith was downright awesome. I don't get why they all just turned into jerks all of a sudden."

"Slytherins have a history of being insecure," I tell her, thinking about my dad and Arista. "They tend to be rather egotistical, and some - not all, but some will do anything to keep their reputation up. Now, I don't see what in their right minds makes them think being one of Zabini's cronies will make them more popular, but their reputations are going to be extremely unsteady. The more popular you become, and the more hated Zabini becomes, the more likely it is that Noah, Selena, and Meredith will come crawling back to you."

"Wow," Rose nods, impressed. "You really know how Slytherins work."

"Hey, I'm surrounded by them every day," I reply. "You learn how they operate after awhile. Hey, what time is it? I think we need to be at Gryffindor Tower by noon, eh?"

Albus checks his watch. "Yeah. It's 11:40. We'd better get going."

"11:40?" Rose exclaims. "Dang it, I hate being late!"

"Aw, we're good," Cat says casually, leaping out of the tree. I cringe as she hits the ground; that's an alarmingly long drop, yet she lands smoothly, barely wincing at all.

The three of us climb down the branches with far less agility. We make our way back to the castle, quickly meandering through the courtyard and into the building.

Suddenly, just as we're turning a corner, Albus slams into a tall figure and falls flat on his bum. I wince - that had to hurt. I barely have time to laugh before I realize that he just bumped into Professor Nivalis, who doesn't seem affected in the slightest by the sudden crash. I swear, she didn't even flinch.

Albus looks up, and his cheeks flush pink. "Oh! Professor Nivalis! I - I'm sorry, I was just -"

She smiles and holds up a pale hand to silence him. "There's no need to fret, Albus Potter," she says in a smooth, gentle voice. "We all crash into one another from time to time. Simply watch where you're going from here on out, and take care not to travel too swiftly. Haste is good, but proficiency is far more preferable. Remember that, children." She smiles gently again, then slips away silently, white fur cloak gliding behind her.

"She's nice," Albus muses as he watches her. She moves so smoothly that it's almost as if she's sliding on ice. "Kind of attractive, I might add..."

I punch him on the arm. "Fancying a teacher, eh? And I thought you could sink no lower..."

Albus punches me back. "Oh, shut up."

Rose narrows her eyes, staring after Nivalis. "I don't trust her," she states. "Something about her is just...I don't know."

Albus rolls his eyes. "Rose, you can't just decide that you dislike a person when you've barely even met them."

"Well, I'm not you. I _judge_ in case you haven't noticed," Rose says.

"You say that like it's a good thing," Albus replies as we walk briskly through the corridors.

"It can be," Rose argues. "Especially when you have as good of a gut instinct as I do."

Albus wrinkles his nose. "So your intestines have instincts?"

Rose thinks for a moment. "Yeah, I guess that doesn't make any sense," she says finally. She glances over at Cat, who's taken the lead. "Cat, you do know where Gryffindor Tower is, right?"

"I have no idea," Cat replies optimistically.

The three of us come to a halt. "What?!" I slap my forehead, shaking my head. "Cat, if you don't know where we're going, then how on earth do you think we're gonna get to Gryffindor Tower?"

Cat shrugs. "I dunno. I just think that if we keep running, we'll somehow stumble upon it."

Rose groans. "Cat! This is a huge castle! Gryffindor Tower is not just going to magically appear within the next thrity minutes!" She sighs. "This is why you let Slytherins take the lead," she mutters under her breath.

"We've only been here for two or three days," Cat says. "Why would I know where Gryffindor Tower is?"

Rose raises her eyebrows. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because you're a _Gryffindor_!"

"Oi! Ed!" Rose calls as a guy with a Prefect badge walks by.

"What's up?" he replies.

"Could you tell us how to Gryffindor Tower?" she asks.

"Gryffindor Tower?" he cocks his head confusedly. "Why would you want to - oh! Pranking! I gotcha." He winks at us. "Well, I hate to break it to you, Rose, but you're on the wrong end of the castle. You know the first staircase you take if you're heading down to Slytherin Dungeon? Well instead of going down it, take a left and keep walking for awhile until you reach another staircase that goes up. Just keep heading up the staircases until you reach the Fat Lady. Hopefully they won't change around too much."

"How long will that take?" Albus asks.

Ed shrugs. "Probably about five minutes, if you jog the whole way there. Two if you sprint as fast as you can."

Rose lets out a groan. "Guys, we're so late! Okay, thanks Ed. Alright, everyone, let's move it!"

Letting Rose take the lead, we jog briskly down the corridors. I check my watch. "It's 11:45," I call. "If we keep up this pace, we'll probably be there just in time."

"Okay, if we're late, it's not the end of the world," Cat claims. "What's the worst they could do?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Albus laughs. "When the Weasleys say a time, they mean it. If you're not there on time, you're dead. Then again, James will probably be like ten minutes late, but hey, we aren't James."

We jog for a few more minutes, and it seems that Rose is the only one out of breath. "A little winded there, Weasley?"

"No," she says determinedly. "Not at all."

We reach the staircase to Slytherin Dungeon, and we veer to the left, not slowing down at all.

Rose begins to pant heavily, and I'll admit, I'm beginning to tire, too. "Rose, are you okay?" I ask.

"Me? Never been better," she lies, wiping sweat off her brow, her auburn waves of hair bouncing around.

I smile to myself. I don't think I've ever met anyone more determined than Rose Weasley.

We rush up staircase after staircase, and I begin to see the infamous portrait of the Fat Lady come into sight. I'm not too worried about being late - really, I don't see what all the fuss about punctuality is, anyway. To be honest, I'm just excited about the revenge meeting. I've never been particularly vengeful, but when someone hurts my friends, they're dead meat.

As we reach the platform that bears the Fat Lady, I check my watch. "It's 11:51."

The others sigh with relief. "Thank God," Rose breathes.

"Squabbling Squid Squibs Squander Squanto's Squash Squeakily," Cat says to the Fat Lady.

"Well done!" the Fat Lady gushes, clapping her hands. "Since you executed that so perfectly, I'll just pretend I don't realize that your three friends there aren't Gryffindors. And I'll try my best to tolerate the fact that you, dear, are a Slytherin," she gestures at Rose, sticking up her nose haughtily.

"How did you know?" Rose asks. "It's Sunday; no one's wearing their uniforms."

"I can see it in your eyes..." the Fat Lady muses. "Cunning, manipulative, and _very_ prideful..."

Cat snorts. "Yes, because we Gryffindors are _never_ prideful."

The Fat Lady rolls her eyes. "Oh, shut up." The portrait swings open, revealing the circular tunnel.

We scramble into the Tower, hopping out of the tunnel in rapid succession. I glance around the ornately decorated room in search of the Weasleys. "They said they were meeting here, right?" I ask, beginning to grow worried.

"Yeah..." Cat purses her lips, pacing the room. "Hey! What's this?

She points to a golden ladder leaning against the wall with a sign taped to it. I stare up at the ceiling, trying to see where it leads to, but the ladder is simply attached to the ceiling, no hole or trapdoor above it.

Albus reads the sign taped to the ladder. "Climb This Ladder to Enter J.S. Potter's and F.A. Weasley's Unnervingly Boring Moral Ethics Class. This Week's Topic: Revenge."

He and Rose exchange a glance. "Very clever, Fred," Rose mutters. "Okay, let's go."

She steps onto the ladder and begins to climb. Just as Cat steps onto the bottom rung, Albus lets out a cry. "Wait! That ladder is extremely tall! I don't know if -"

"Oh, suck it up, Albus," Rose rolls her eyes. "You really need to get over your acrophobia."

"Wha? I'm not acrophobic! It's just that heights..." Albus gulps. "They just kind of - Whooaaaaaaa, okay, hello there!"

Albus squirms as Cat picks him up effortlessly, throwing him over her shoulder. "W-what are you doing? I never agreed to this! Oh my God, you're strong! Cat, put me down! Please!"

Rose and I laugh as Albus protests wildly, while Cat carries him up the ladder, barely struggling at all. He finally stops flailing, though the look on his face is still of sheer terror.

I climb up the ladder after her, trying in vain to comfort Albus. I guess I'm lucky that I'm not scared of heights at all. In fact, I've always enjoyed sneaking up to my roof at midnight and painting the moonlit forest nearby. That's a pretty high climb, mind you, so that would be an absolute nightmare for poor Albus.

When Rose reaches the top of the ladder, she stares up at it confusedly. "Strange. It's literally just a ladder from the floor to the ceiling." She reaches up to knock on the ceiling, and nearly loses her balance when her hand goes _through_ the ceiling. "Whoa!" she yelps. She pauses, then sticks her hand into the ceiling again. "I don't feel anything up here. I guess it's kind of like Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. You just climb right through it." She climbs farther up the ladder, disappearing into the ceiling.

Cat follows suit, much to the dismay of Albus. "Wait, please put me down! My cousins and James are up there! If they saw you carrying me, they'll never let me hear the end of it! Please put me down, please, please, please -" His words fade as the two of them disappear into the ceiling. I quickly climb the remainder of the ladder, gingerly sticking my hand through the ceiling, then climbing through it.

I find myself crawling up into a warm, red and gold lounge where a group of kids are seated around a circular table. A fireplace containing scores of flickering flames lies close to the table. The walls are decorated with Gryffindor banners, moving pictures of past Gryffindor Quidditch teams, and other random Gryffindor paraphernalia. In front of the fireplace are beanbags and comfy-looking armchairs, adding to the lounge effect. The floors are made of shining hardwood, and the walls consist of thick, polished logs. This could very well be one of the coziest spots in Hogwarts.

Wait, but...the ceiling...how did I get up here? I glance down, jerking with surprise when I see that the lower half of my body has disappeared below the floor, since I'm still standing on the top rungs of the ladder. I climb all the way up, onto the hardwood floors.

Just as Albus predicted, the Weasleys are roaring with laughter at the poor guy. "Making a lady carry you up a ladder?" James hoots. "Looks like you've hit an all-time low, little brother!"

"I didn't ask to be carried!" Albus protests, his cheeks flushed bright pink. "I was just standing there, not bothering anyone, when suddenly Cat came and -"

"Not bothering anyone?" I snort. "You were having a panic attack over how the ladder is too dangerous, and you're gonna fall, and heights are just _terrifying_!" Okay, maybe that was a bit cruel, but the Weasleys' howls of laughter are worth it.

After a few more minutes of relentless, good-natured (somewhat) teasing, James checks his watch, then nods at Fred. Fred whips out his wand and quickly transfigures a nearby book into a wooden gavel. "I never thought I'd ever use that spell," Fred murmurs, nodding with satisfaction.

James picks up the gavel and uses it to pound on the table. "Order, order in the court!" he calls. "Albus, Cat, Rosie, and Malfoy, welcome to the Weasley-Potter Emergency Revenge Court of Supreme Awesomeness. Please take your seats at the Weasley-Potter Emergency Revenge Court of Supreme Awesomeness Official Circular Wooden Pulpit."

"Why not just 'the table'?" Albus mutters as I sit down between Rose and Cat.

"Because the Chief Warlock of the Weasley-Potter Emergency Revenge Court of Supreme Awesomeness says so," James states, throwing a pointed look at Albus. "Now, in case you didn't get the memo, this is not J.S. Potter's and F.A. Weasley's Unnervingly Boring Moral Ethics Class. We're sorry to disappoint you if you assumed that was the case."

"Yeah, I totally fell for that," Dominique mutters.

"Hey, shut up!" James orders.

"However, next Wednesday, feel free to check out J.S. Potter's and F.A. Weasley's Exceeding Ahmaazing Seminar On Why Moral Ethics Are Stupid And Should Be Banned," Fred adds.

"'Ahmaazing'?" Roxy snorts.

"Shut it, Weaselhead!" James snaps.

"Rawr," Roxy makes a clawing motion with her hand, and I snicker.

"Technically you're a Weasley too, James," Cat reminds him.

"Okay, next person who interrupts gets visitation from the Fred-and-James Stupid-People Extermination Squad!" James threatens us.

Silence.

I guess this Stupid-People Extermination Squad must be pretty intimidating.

"Thank you," says James, who's obviously still a bit ticked off. "Now, the Weasley-Potter clan, and others -" He glances at Cat and I. "Gather today to discuss Arista Malfoy's somewhat fair punishment. As Chief Warlock of the Weasley-Potter clan, I hereby propose that -"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up the truck," Lucy cuts in. "Since when are _you_ Chief Warlock of the Weasley-Potter clan?"

"Yeah," Fred agrees. "What if _I_ wanted to be Chief Warlock?"

"James, stop with the elaboration, just get to the point," Rose says.

"Amen, sister," Roxy agrees.

An indignant James sticks his nose in the air. "Okay, fine. Have it your way. So, recap: We're here to talk about kicking Malfoy's arse."

"Woot woot!" Fred calls.

"Gee, thanks," Scorpius says.

"I'm talking about your sister, not you!" James says. "You're the bomb-diggity, we wouldn't kick your arse. Oh, and to avoid confusion, let's refer to him as Little Malfoy."

"Why not Scorpius?" Scorpius asks.

"That's too long for me," James replies.

"James, 'Little Malfoy' has more syllables than 'Scorpius'," Rose sighs.

"Pfft, no it doesn't," James snorts.

"Actually, it does, mate," Fred murmurs.

"Not on my agenda," James declares. "Anyway, let's get back to the matter at hand."

"You're the one who got off topic," Cat mumbles.

"Hush, hush!" James shushes her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Rose stands up. "James, I understand that you're the authoritative type, but what gives you the right to take control of the group and talk to us like you're a teacher and we're your students? Who made you the CEO? I don't mean to be rude or cause a fuss, but if we want to get anything done at this meeting, we need to act as a group, not as your underlings."

Her words are met by a round of "Amen!"s and "You go, girl!"s, and "Yeaaaaaaah!"s.

That's one of the many reasons why I love Rose. She's not too aggressive, but if something is unfair or immoral or just plain wrong, she's not afraid to stand up and speak the truth. With her amazing leadership, that girl should be the Minister of Magic someday. I smile at her when she sits back down.

"Rose is right," Cat adds. "In my opinion, this needs to be more of an open discussion, so we can all put our ideas out there, and not get attacked by that Stupid People Punishment Squad. Because even though I don't know exactly what that is, it doesn't give off much of a friendly vibe."

You go, Cat! I reach over and fist-bump her.

"Well said, guys," Dominique applauds them. "I agree. I think we should all be able to contribute our thoughts and speak freely without being shushed or threatened."

James' face flushes bright red. "Oh. Okay. Well...sorry. Carry on." He stares down at the table, embarrassed and ashamed.

"We aren't mad at you, James," Molly pats him on the back. "We're just saying you gotta lighten up a bit."

A confident smile returns to James' face. "You're right. Sorry, everyone. So, back to revenge...any thoughts?"

"We need to make sure Malfoy's suffering is equal or greater than the suffering she put Cat and Rose through," Roxy states, fire in her amber eyes.

"I don't think the pain we inflict upon her should be _greater_ than the pain Cat and Rose endured," Dominique says. "We need to make it fair. After all, we aren't Slytherins."

"Oi!"

"No offense, Rose," she quickly adds.

"I think it should be more about public humiliation than physical harm," I say. "Arista is very egotistical. Her reputation is her life. She's convinced that everyone worships her, and that therefore she is entitled to do whatever she wants. If we do something to make her see that she isn't the queen she thinks she is..."

"Exactly," Fred clasps his hands together. "Something to taint her inflated ego."

"What if we don't limit it to only one prank..." Lucy muses. "We could pull a multitude of pranks, and make it kind of a chain reaction."

"I think you're on to something, Lucy..." James leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. "We can give her hell, starting from the moment she wakes up."

"Yeah!" Cat exclaims enthusiastically. "And maybe we can rig some traps throughout the castle so that everywhere she goes, she's got potential to humiliate herself."

"I like it, I like it..." James grins. I don't even want to know what ideas must be swimming through his head. "Cat Riddley, that's actually a really, really good idea..."

"And we can arrange it so that if she tries to go to the authorities and blame us, she'll look like a fool," Rose adds.

"Oh, definitely!" Roxy's eyes light up. "We can incorporate things to make it really obvious that we did it, but when she goes and tattles on us, we'll make it look like she's lying."

"Wait!" I interject. I'm starting to like revenge more and more with each passing moment. "What if, at the end of the pranking day, we leave her a note that says if she tattles on us, we'll make sure that her reputation is ruined, and that she's expelled. Arista is such a coward, she'll never tattle if we threaten her."

"Yeah!" Cat agrees. "That way, we won't have to worry about defending our case!"

"But what about the professors?" Albus asks, speaking up for the first time in awhile. "If we make everything so flamboyant, they're bound to notice, and they'll come to the conclusion that we did it."

The group pauses for a moment, pondering this. "Well, even the teachers hate Arista," Roxy says finally. "Especially McGonagall. They'll probably assume it's us, but pretend not to notice. And we'll just steer clear of Filch. I think that when we pull the pranks, we shouldn't spell out 'Weasley' in giant fireworks when they're around. When we hex her, we should do it subtly, and nonverbally if possible, 'cause we can get in major trouble for doing magic in the hallways. We should probably save the grandest stuff for when teachers aren't around."

"Good point," Cat says. "I think that as long as we stay under the radar when teachers are around, we'll be good."

"Oh, this is good, this is so good," The grin on James' face has doubled in size over the course of the last few minutes. "Okay, let's start planning this out, step by step."

I don't know how much time passes - thirty minutes? An hour? Two hours? - but the more ideas we spurt out, the more anticipated everyone becomes. I'd have to say, the Weasleys have taken pranks and revenge to a whole new level. After we have the general outline of the plan completed, the room is bustling; Rose, James, and Cat are are kind of overseeing everything, Fred is describing the mechanical stuff to me while I make countless diagrams and sketches, Roxy is writing out the sequence of the plan, Lucy is rushing stacks of spell books and supplies up and down the ladder, Dominique and Molly are flipping through the spell books and writing down notes and spells and important information, and Albus is organizing stacks of papers into different piles. It's like the elves' toy workshop at the North Pole; each person has their specific job, and everything is running smoothly.

Finally, when I master the last diagram, and Dom and Molly are reading through their notes, James claps his hands. "Well done, Weasleys!" he applauds. "This is going to be one of the most epic pranking phenomenons ever! It's quarter past two, so we worked for nearly two and a half hours!"

Cheers ring out through the room. "All our hard work is definitely gonna pay off," Lucy says.

"So remember, the first phase of the plan starts tomorrow, preparation day is Tuesday, and Wednesday is the day when we strike," James reminds us. "Now let's go get some food, I'm about to die over here!"

We climb out of the secret conference room (Albus makes it a point to climb down the ladder himself this time) and head down toward the Great Hall.

"What do you think about all this?" I ask as we walk with the Weasley cousins.

"I love it," Rose says, practically skipping. "This is gonna be great! Vengeance will be ours! Yayyyy!"

I laugh. "You really are a Slytherin."

"Well, they don't call me the SlytherWeasley for nothing," Rose says.

"This is the best," Cat says, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I've grown up pulling pranks, and now I get to put my skills to good use!"

"Hey, Albus," I tap him on the shoulder, as he seems deep in thought, his eyes pointed toward the ground. "I notice that you didn't say much throughout the meeting. Are you okay?"

Albus purses his lips. "Well, it's just...I like the idea of sticking up for our friends, but I think this whole ordeal will just make Arista start to hate us even more."

Cat snorts. "Well, we aren't exactly trying to win her approval, eh?"

"Yeah, but..." Albus struggles to find the right words. "I feel like that if we do this, we're just sinking to Arista's level. It doesn't make us any better than she is."

"But the whole reason that we're doing this is because Arista didn't receive a punishment, and we need to make sure justice is done," Rose says.

"And when one of our friends gets hurt, we don't go down without a fight," Cat adds. "Albus, you're doing the right thing. Since we have the resources, we might as well take it upon ourselves to teach Arista a lesson. And to be honest, the pranks aren't too harmful, just embarrassing. This will be good for her."

Albus thinks for a moment, and then a smile lights up his face. "You're right. Okay, I'll go through with it."

"Yay!" Cat exclaims. "I swear, we're gonna have the time of our lives."

As we stroll into the Great Hall, our minds mostly bent on finding some snacks, I can't help but think how by doing this, I'm endangering myself and risking getting expelled, not to mention death via Dad.

And I love every minute of it.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! As always, I appreciate your reviews, favorites, follows, and other shenanigans. I'm going to be gone at camp for the next week, so I won't be able to respond to any reviews/PMs/etc. until about next Sunday. Love ya!


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